(slow country ballad)
Cuttin' firewood, in the rain...
Sawdust stickin', to my clothes...
Tryin' to for-get the pain...
When you punched me, in the nose...
Now I don't really, feel ashamed...
'Cause your sister's, smokin' hot...
And I think love, spoiled your aim...
When you missed that, easy shot...
If you'd just come back, home to me...
We'd watch the fire, and forget...
Better wait a, couple weeks...
'Cause the firewood's, kind of wet...
Anyone play steel guitar? I'm heading to Nashville.
Better sharpen up the chainsaw and crank out another one first.