| Well he comes in here on the 1st and 15th
|
| Pockets just jinglin' like a tambourine
|
| Makes a beeline over to that old jukebox
|
| Fills it up to the top and the needle drops
|
| And it’s off like a rocket in a neon haze
|
| Spinnin' 'em back to the good old days
|
| Beer gets to flowin' and the whiskey pours
|
| There ain’t an empty spot on the old dance floor
|
| All cowboy hats, boots, and jeans
|
| Ridin' that honky-tonk time machine
|
| He’s gonna make damn sure the jukebox don’t rock
|
| And the record’s gonna be the only thing that bops
|
| He’s an old-school, cold longneck DJ
|
| And look at him now, here comes them old green snakes
|
| And it’s off like a rocket in a neon haze
|
| Spinnin' 'em back to the good old days
|
| Beer gets to flowin' and the whiskey pours
|
| There ain’t an empty spot on the old dance floor
|
| All cowboy hats, boots, and jeans
|
| Ridin' that honky-tonk time machine
|
| From A to Z, and everything between
|
| He’s flying that honky-tonk time machine
|
| And it’s off like a rocket in a neon haze
|
| Spinnin' 'em back to the good old days
|
| Beer gets to flowin' and the whiskey pours
|
| There ain’t an empty spot on the old dance floor
|
| All cowboy hats, boots, and jeans
|
| Ridin' that honky-tonk time machine
|
| Everybody’s back in MWZ
|
| They’re ridin' that honky-tonk time machine
|
| Well he comes in here on the 1st and 15th
|
| Pockets just jinglin' like a tambourine
|
| Makes a beeline over to that old jukebox
|
| Fills it up to the top and the needle drops |