| Whiskey is the gasoline that lights the fire that burns the bridge
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| Ice creates the water that’s no longer runnin' under it
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| Stool holds the fool that pours the whiskey on his broken heart
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| Cigarettes create the smoke that hides the lonesome in his eyes
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| The jukebox plays Hank, «I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry»
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| Dance floor holds the folks trying to forget who they are
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| And that’s what happens in every little honky tonk bar
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| Friday night, it’s a given
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| I’ll be L-I-V-N, livin'
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| We’ll dance on the bar 'til we’re sleeping it off in the car
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| Monday morning, it’s a given
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| I’ll be D-R-A-G-N, draggin'
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| And that’s what happens in every little honky tonk bar
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| Neon lights flashing bright 'til you’re almost hypnotized
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| Waitress, short skirt, gets hit on by every guy
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| Comin' and goin', always rollin' with the flow
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| Bartender, pour our drinks; |
| Código, do a shot
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| You think you’re tall and bulletproof
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| Until somebody says you’re not
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| You step outside thinkin' you’re gonna show 'em you are
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| And that’s what happens in every little honky tonk bar
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| Friday night, it’s a given
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| We’ll be L-I-V-N, livin'
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| We’ll dance on the bar 'til we’re sleeping it off in the car
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| Monday morning, it’s a given
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| We’ll be D-R-A-G-N, draggin'
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| And that’s what happens in every little honky tonk bar
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| Yeah, that’s what happens in every little honky tonk bar
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| Whiskey is the gasoline that lights the fire that burns the bridge |