Lyrics Whiskey Myers

Whiskey Myers

Guitar Picker

I remember back when I was sixteen

I was sittin' there just my pops and me

When his friend walked up in a cowboy hat

Said I like what your doin but it ain't worth sap

I see this road will leave you cold and alone

Old and broke and a bag of bones

So you better take heed to the words I say

Stay right clear of that lost highway

I'm singin' o southern wind wont you take me high

I got seven ladies dancin' naked by an old camp fire

Guitar pickin' with a bottle of wine

Ill be an old broke guitar picker, lord, when I die

Ill be an old broke guitar picker, lord, when I die

Holes in my clothes and holes in my shoes

And a hole in the heart, thats why I'm singin' the blues

Put my change in my pocket but it's all gone

And everything that I do it seems to be wrong

So now I'm broke I'm back on the street

With a guitar case infront of Drake and me

So you better listen up cause it ain't no lie

Please throw a nickel in when you walk by

I'm singin' o southern wind wont you take me high

I got seven ladies dancin' naked by an old camp fire

Guitar pickin' with a bottle of wine

Ill be an old broke guitar picker, lord, when I die

Ill be an old broke guitar picker, lord, when I die

I came in this world with nothin on my back

I'll leave the same and thats a fact

I ain't in it for the money I ain't in it for the fame

And I don't really care if you remember my name

So now I gotta to go I gotta hit the road

I gotta do the only thing that I know

I got this feel it deep down and I got to be true

And I sure as hell ain't guna change for you

Singin O southern wind wont you take me high

When I hear the sounds comin from an amplifier

Guitar pickin with a bottle of wine

Ill be an old broke guitar picker when I die

Ill be an old broke guitar picker when I die