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• Artiste: Walker Hayes
• Titre: Pocket Knife
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Thirteen, I was already leaning on a bottle Daddy beat us with a belt, preacher beat us with a bible Down in south Alabama, Dog River cattails I was scared of my brother when he got out of jail Bought a Chevy Drove Laney Beville to the levee We were getting out of dodge ready Class of '98, ain't called y'all in a minute, but hey Mama, I still keep my Mobile life In my pocket like a pocket knife I take it out every once in a smile Whittle on a memory for a little while Thank God the shit that went wrong Taught me how to write country songs Ain't it funny how childhood trauma Cuts you deep and sharpens you Don't it, Mama? Said I'ma throw a little Tupac on the mic I ain't mad at you, Mama, 'cause It ain't like I was one of those Honor Roll bumper sticker kids I know you tried like Merle's mama did But I was too proud Turning my twelves up too loud I was just a baby, got a few now Wish I could call Dad I just called to say don't be sad Mama, I still keep my Mobile life In my pocket like a pocket knife I take it out every once in a smile Whittle on a memory for a little while Thank God the shit that went wrong Taught me how to write country songs Ain't it funny how childhood trauma Cuts you deep and sharpens you Don't it, Mama? Too long, way too long Since I took that drive to the 251 Too long, way too long Down 65, 'Bama, here I come Too long, way too long Since I took that drive to the 251 Too long, way too long Down 65, 'Bama, here I come Mama, I still keep my Mobile life In my pocket like a pocket knife I take it out every once in a smile Whittle on a memory for a little while Thank God the shit that went wrong Taught me how to write country songs Ain't it funny how childhood trauma Cuts you deep and sharpens you Don't it, Mama? Cuts you deep and sharpens you Don't it, Mama? Cuts you deep and sharpens you Don't it, Mama?