LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizeErrols Song
Mr. Errol he lives on the banks of Lake ArthurWhere your windshield gets foggy, where your back roads unwindIt’s a long way from Shreveport, not too far from GueydanAnd it’s close to the home that I left behindYah it’s close to the home that I left behindMr. Errol’s a father, he’s a farmer, he’s a hunterAnd he talks to the ducks and the geese and the blindHe works hard for the lives that he helps to make betterAnd he lives by the graveyard of the rusted combinesCHORUS:And he held my hand when my boots got too heavyWith the mud from the rice fields coming to my behindWe set out the decoys in the dark on the levyAnd we walked through the graveyard of the rusted combinesThere’s coffee and biscuits on the stove in the kitchenThere’s a crack in the ceiling and a screened in front doorAnd as the fog starts to settle on the banks of Lake ArthurI can still taste the whiskey from the night just beforeIt’s the Crown Royal whiskey from the night just beforeAnd it’s hard to get up at five in the morningPut your guns, put your shells, put your wine in a sackWe look like some militia in our boots and our camoWith a bird dog named Milo, he’s asleep in the back[Refrão]CHORUS:He held my hand when my boots got too heavyWith the mud from the rice fields coming to my behindWe set out the decoys in the dark on the levyAnd we walked through the graveyard of the rusted combines[Próxima Parte]The combine’s a monster, combine’s a saviourLooking down at the blades I can see heaven and hellCold steel cut the rice crops for acres and acresBill how many barrels? Man I cannot tellBill how many dryers? Man I cannot tellThere’s water as far as your good eyes can seeAt the Lake Arthur bar all the old men get rowdyThey got bottles of whiskey that are older than me[Refrão] (repetir)[Próxima Parte]Sometimes I dream of a girl in a pickupWith her window rolled down and her radio onAnd you look at the cypress on the Highway 190And you give her away and you sing Jole BlonAnd you give her away and you sing Jole BlonAnd Mr. Errol’s a good friend he never a strangerWhen I come back it seems like I’ve always been hereThere’s a sign in his kitchen it’s written in French“If you run out of Schlitz, you’ve run out of beer”[Refrão] (repetir)
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