| I’ve seen drunk girls singin' karaoke
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| I’ve seen old timers pray to their beer
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| And we all seem to have our sad stories to tell
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| That’s how we all ended up here
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| Washin' away all our problems
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| Gettin' baptised in those neon lights
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| And the drunker I get, the more things I forget
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| And I just ain’t got that kind of time
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| So that’s why I like drinkin' whiskey
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| Because it fills up the cracks in my soul
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| And it helps me forget all the damage I’ve done
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| And all the time I’ve spent down in this hole
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| And for a moment I swear I hear Jesus
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| Sayin' «Son, it’ll all be alright.»
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| So I take one more shot of redemption, Lord
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| It’s like Sunday every Saturday night
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| Now the gospel comes out of that jukebox
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| And an angel just walked through the door
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| And she pulled up a chair right beside me
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| She said, «You think misery’s got room for one more?»
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| So that’s why I like drinkin' whiskey
|
| Because it fills up the cracks in my soul
|
| And it helps me forget all the damage I’ve done
|
| And all the time I’ve spent down in this hole
|
| And for a moment I swear I hear Jesus
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| Sayin' «Son, it’ll all be alright.»
|
| So I take one more shot of redemption, Lord
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| It’s like Sunday every Saturday night
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| Now the bar stools are lined up like church pews
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| And the preacher just yelled out «Last call!»
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| And confession is held belly-up to the bar
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| Hell even the best angels fall
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| So that’s why I like drinkin' whiskey
|
| Because it fills up the cracks in my soul
|
| And it helps me forget all the damage I’ve done
|
| And all the time I’ve spent down in this hole
|
| And for a moment I swear I hear Jesus
|
| Saying «Son, it’ll all be alright.»
|
| So I take one more shot of redemption, Lord
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| It’s like Sunday every Saturday night
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| It’s like Sunday every Saturday night |