| Daddy passed me his bottle of tequila
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| Said, «Times running out, we’re gonna have to pretend it’s a margarita
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| It’s the order of things, it’s the way it goes
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| Don’t you look at me, girl, like I’m already gone»
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| The day is close, it won’t be long
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| Couple of cocktails and a song
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| And don’t you let me see you cry
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| Don’t you go grieving
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| Not before I’m gone
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| He had his lighter on a leash and menthols in his shirt pocket
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| Said, «I'm going up with the smoke, there’s no doin' anything to stop it
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| So take a deep breath, quit with the countdown
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| You’ve always been your daddy’s girl, nothing’s gonna change that now»
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| The day is close, it won’t be long
|
| Couple of cocktails and a song
|
| And don’t you let me see you cry
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| Don’t you go grieving
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| Not before I’m gone
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| And then he started down at his shoes
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| Through the pink begonia’s blue
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| Said daddy, all I wanna is your silver belt buckle
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| And maybe you black Stetson hat
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| And both of us laughed about that
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| The day is close, no it won’t be long
|
| Couple of cocktails and a song
|
| Don’t you let me see you cry
|
| Don’t you go grieving
|
| Not before I die |