| If whiskey could talk, it’d say I’m a great guy
|
| Or at least it ought to, for as much as I buy
|
| But it’s money well spent just to help me feel free
|
| From the pain she creates when she’s cheating on me
|
| Well she’s at it again, living high on the streets
|
| So I reach for the bottle just to help me to sleep
|
| And I lay here in bed and dream of a time
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| When she was content with being all mine
|
| If whiskey could talk, it’d say I’m a great guy
|
| Or at least it ought to, for as much as I buy
|
| But it’s money well spent just to help me feel free
|
| From the pain she creates when she’s cheating on me
|
| She’ll come back to me when the lights have gone down
|
| And she’s ran out of men to buy her a round
|
| But she dreads coming home to that drunk in her bed
|
| Who’s living alone hanging on by a thread
|
| If whiskey could talk, it’d say I’m a great guy
|
| Or at least it ought to, for as much as I buy
|
| But it’s money well spent just to help me feel free
|
| From the pain she creates when she’s cheating on me |