| Gonna settle down slowly
|
| Night fall’s rowdy in the air
|
| Haven’t seen enough sunrises
|
| Don’t have time to forget
|
| Raise a glass to each moment
|
| In a race against time
|
| Where you bargain with the darkness
|
| In the back of your mind
|
| Shouldn’t be waiting for a clear sign to make a move
|
| While these bourbon bottles mark the moments that we move
|
| Holding fast against the days
|
| Like photographs that steal the words away…
|
| Way down gravel back roads
|
| Where we turn just to leave
|
| We can wrestle with our worries
|
| And reach for something to relieve
|
| Out on the edge of November
|
| On the a verge of a storm
|
| When the radio and radiator still keepin you warm
|
| Shouldn’t be waiting for a clear sign to make a move
|
| While these bourbon bottles mark the moments that we move
|
| Holding fast against the days
|
| Like photographs that steal the words away…
|
| Here come in our troubles
|
| Across these five interstates
|
| Through shady back room dealings
|
| With no fear to test our fate
|
| Shouldn’t be waiting for a clear sign to make a move
|
| While these bourbon bottles mark the moments that we move
|
| Holding fast against the days
|
| Like photographs that steal the words away…
|
| Like photographs that steal the words away |