Watches pretty young girls sing high heavenly blues.
Looks around the roadhouse, knows they can pick and choose.
(Damn! Don’t she look fine in them tight faded jeans?)
They look for truths in his nicotine banter.
All he ever gives is quick jokes, lively laughter.
Outlaw smile keeps them guessing just what he means…
Struck out so many times,
He doesn’t even want to get up, go to bat.

She says, come on home with me we can take it slow.
He feels he should’ve maybe stayed in Mexico.
(Believes he’s a hero; nothing’s what it seems.)
Already grown at nineteen, got her own place,
I-dare-you blue eyes, red lipstick, baby face.
Long hair with an attitude, Prince Charming dreams
Caught by his fancy rhymes.
Played this way before; won’t consider doing that.

They’re far too young, he’s way past old.
This place is too hot, he’s feeling cold.
Lights another up, orders one more round.
Seems the only shot he’s got left…
Is whiskey on the bar,
Lost and found.

Worn out boots, honky tonks, years worth of one-night stands,
Warm flat beer, debutantes, headaches from last night’s bands,
(There’s no future in thinking, no way, no, sir.)
At the end of his rope, spent all his money
I’d love to, but you know how it is, honey…
He gets weaker, as her hairspray leans closer,
Empty fool, stealing blind,
Give it up for the hero, he knows where it’s at.

They’re way too young, he’s far past old.
This place is hot, he’s feeling so cold.
Rights himself, orders one last round.
Seems the only shot he’s got left…
Is whiskey on the bar,
Lost and found.