| I closed my eyes in Dartmouth, woke up behind the wheel
|
| A mason jar of memories and four black tires squeal
|
| The first and last time that we spoke, you were lighting up a smoke
|
| And shit was real
|
| The Prisonaires were singing «Just Walking in the Rain»
|
| That’s how we got to Memphis and we made it home again
|
| Down the highway that I dream, with my blue eyes closed I’ve seen
|
| Beyond the frame
|
| Oh the good times we had
|
| I remember them, lads
|
| We could take any turn on a dime
|
| Quit reminding me, girl
|
| It’s a ragged old world
|
| Cause I don’t want to leave it behind
|
| No, I don’t want to leave it behind
|
| From a gas station in Texas, to the Bay of Fundy mud
|
| My mind it goes a wandering with the whiskey in my blood
|
| Remembering the chance we had after the dance
|
| Before the flood gates opened
|
| Reality came rushing in
|
| Drowning out the past and chasing it with gin
|
| I’ll find that place again, but let me first explain
|
| Where do I begin?
|
| Oh the good times we had
|
| I remember them, lads
|
| We could take any turn on a dime
|
| So quit reminding me, girl
|
| It’s a ragged old world
|
| Cause I don’t want to leave it behind
|
| No, I don’t want to leave it behind
|
| We picked up the sticks, gave it all we got
|
| The only time I liked playing hockey was in the liquor store parking lot
|
| On Hollis Street downtown, before they tore it down
|
| I took a shot
|
| Oh the good times we had
|
| I remember them, lads
|
| We could take any turn on a dime
|
| Quit reminding me, girl
|
| It’s a ragged old world
|
| Cause I don’t want to leave it behind
|
| No, I don’t want to leave you behind
|
| Oh the good times we had
|
| I remember them, lads
|
| We could take any turn on a dime
|
| Standing out in the cold
|
| Singing Those Bastard Souls
|
| No, I don’t want to leave it behind
|
| No, I don’t want to leave this behind |