A stark naked light bulb hangs over my head There’s one lonely pillow on my double bed I’ve got a ceiling, a floor and four walls Who says you cant have it all My room’s decorated with pictures of you Your letters wallpaper this shrine to the blues I’ve got precious memories at my beck and call Who says you cant have it all I’ve got everything a broken heart needs I’m doing fine dont you worry about me Cause I’m lord and master Of a fools Taj Mahal Who says you cant have it all Oh who says you cant have it all
Tags: Alan Jackson
Way down yonder on the Chattahoochee It gets hotter than a hoochie coochie We laid rubber on the Georgie asphalt We got a little crazy but we never got caught Down by the river on a friday night A pyramid of cans in the pale moonlight Talking ’bout cars and dreaming ’bout women Never had a plan just a livin’ for the minute Yeah way down yonder on the Chattahoochee Never knew how much that muddy water meant to me But I learned how to swim and I learned how I was A lot about livin’ and a litttle ’bout love Well we fooged up the windows in my old chevy I was willing but she wasn’t ready So a [...]
Tags: Alan Jackson
It was painted red the stripe was white It was eighteen feet from the bow to the stern light Secondhand from a dealer in Atlanta I rode up with daddy when he went there to get her We put on a shine; put on a motor Built out of love, made for the water Ran her for years, ’til the transom got rotten A piece of my childhood that will never be forgotten It was just on old plywood boat With a ’75 Johnson with electric choke A young boy two hands on the wheel I can’t replace the way it made me feel And I would turn her sharp And I would make her whine He’d say, “you can’t [...]
Tags: Alan Jackson
She’s been playin’ in a room on the Strip For ten years in Vegas Every night she looks in the mirror And she only ages She’s been readin’ about Nashville and all The records that everybody’s buyin’ Says ‘I’m a simple girl myself Grew up on Long Island’ So she packs her bags to try to her hand Says this might be my last chance She’s gone country, look at them boots She’s gone country, back to her roots She’s gone country, a new kind of suit She’s gone country, here she comes Well the folk scene is dead But he’s holdin’ out in the village He’s been writin’ songs speakin’ out Against wealth and privilege He says ‘I dont [...]
Tags: Alan Jackson
