Whitmer Thomas - Bushwhacked lyrics
[Whitmer Thomas - Bushwhacked lyrics]
Down south there's this sweetness
This beer-soaked bleakness
As a man with a shotgun just
Shoot shit and eats it
If your best friend's your cousin
You've been through some shit
When the chair is a cooler
Then the party's legit
I went back home and the
Water was clear and still
There was nothing but fish to catch and
Oh so much time to kill
And middle aged mumbling mothers stumbling
Drinking buschwhackers on the shore
I never had a home here
Why do I want one anymore?
Well, the burnouts are born here
The tropical storm's here
Suck hope from rehabbed daddios
Scraping barnacles off boats
The coffee is mud here but I am a stud here
Looking ten years younger than the
Kids in my class
Booze on their breath, skin stained red
But a casually calloused kind of
Way of talking about death it's the best
Our parents are all dropping like flies
Addicted to staying up and seeing the sunrise
Humid and hazy, doped up and lazy
Every new morning is another
Chance to say goodbyes rusty looking glass
Just navigate cliches
Until life grabs ahold of you and
Spit's right in your face
I'm half good at some things but
My body is out of whack
I want to lift your spirit's but
I'll throw out my back
Home never existed but the seagull still flew
A life wasted looking back on the
Things you want to undo
I never had a home here, I was always a joke
Never hunted a buck or tied up a boat
The older that I get the funnier that I was
Wish you could have known me then
We could have had so much fun
This beer-soaked bleakness
As a man with a shotgun just
Shoot shit and eats it
If your best friend's your cousin
You've been through some shit
When the chair is a cooler
Then the party's legit
I went back home and the
Water was clear and still
There was nothing but fish to catch and
Oh so much time to kill
And middle aged mumbling mothers stumbling
Drinking buschwhackers on the shore
I never had a home here
Why do I want one anymore?
Well, the burnouts are born here
The tropical storm's here
Suck hope from rehabbed daddios
Scraping barnacles off boats
The coffee is mud here but I am a stud here
Looking ten years younger than the
Kids in my class
Booze on their breath, skin stained red
But a casually calloused kind of
Way of talking about death it's the best
Our parents are all dropping like flies
Addicted to staying up and seeing the sunrise
Humid and hazy, doped up and lazy
Every new morning is another
Chance to say goodbyes rusty looking glass
Just navigate cliches
Until life grabs ahold of you and
Spit's right in your face
I'm half good at some things but
My body is out of whack
I want to lift your spirit's but
I'll throw out my back
Home never existed but the seagull still flew
A life wasted looking back on the
Things you want to undo
I never had a home here, I was always a joke
Never hunted a buck or tied up a boat
The older that I get the funnier that I was
Wish you could have known me then
We could have had so much fun