He was an old country singer; sparks flew from his fingers
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As he stood behind a chicken wire cage,
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And the songs he was singin', they were soulful and honest,
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But the frat boys booed him off of the stage.
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I bought him a drink and sat down at his table.
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He said, "boy, if I look tired, I am...
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I drove four-hundred miles just to play for the tip jar,
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And nobody here gives a damn."
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CHORUS:
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"I've spent my life out on some lonesome highway
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Dead set on chasin' a dream.
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There was a time when this road led somewhere,
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But now I'm just out here
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Burnin' gasoline."
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Well, we drank a few more and he talked about the old days
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When he wrote songs for Conway and Merle.
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He said, "son, my tunes were the heart of country music,
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But now it's a whole different world."
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I said, "here's to the good ones," and we turned up our bottles
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As the bar owner walked through the crowd.
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He said, "it's gettin' late, and you haven't played your last set,"
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And the old man said, "oh, yes I have."
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REPEAT CHORUS
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Burnin' Gasoline
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Brian Burns |