Faulkner Street - Hayes Carll

The record player’s scratchin' out an old and dusty tune

On the front porch, on a Sunday, on an Arky afternoon

We were lyin' 'round like gypsies, thinkin' 'bout goin' to town

And Jimmy’s drinkin' whiskey straight and lyin' in the shade

Jamie’s dancin' round the kitchen with a glass of lemonade

Lookin' like an angel who’s never gonna touch the ground

Trouble in mind

How’d we ever lose that time?

Livin' for the best

Leavin' all the rest behind

Now them boys from Morgan County, there a comin' out tonight

With country on the radio and trouble in there eyes

They come walkin' up the driveway, singin' 'bout the night before

And we’ll head up to the mountain, pick-up trucks and old guitars

We’ll all smoke marijuana as we look up at the stars

Raisin' hell for hours, until we can’t take any more

Repeat Chorus

Now there’s a picture on the mantle top, filled with old regrets

There are times I can’t remember and things I won’t forget

I’d call you up and tell you, but baby, we’ve been gone too long

That porch is just a memory and the record player’s broke

The hills have gone to houses and Jimmy’s gone to smoke

But I’d do the whole thing over, darlin' just to hear that song