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• Artiste: Chase Rice
• Titre: Mr. Coors
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Ship came from the east side, early 1868 Young stowaway in toe below, never saw the light of day Washed up there in Baltimore, spent some time in Chi-town But one train ride west to Denver, that's all we talk about Here's to Rocky Mountain water in a place that they call Golden A hundred fifty years ago, no, there wasn't no way of knowing What the hell we'd drink today if he hadn't paved his way Mr. Coors, thanks for everything First time that we met was a banquet south of Boulder We stuck 'em down deep in that snow, man, they couldn't get no colder Now we raise 'em high to memories made and loved ones lost along the way That's a hand a wish I got to shake Someday I hope I do Here's to Rocky Mountain water in a place that they call Golden A hundred fifty years ago, no, there wasn't no way of knowing What the hell we'd drink today if he hadn't paved his way Mr. Coors, thanks for everything Every song, every dance, every cracking of a can Every football game on Saturdays and front porch, man to man Here's to Rocky Mountain water in a place that they call Golden A hundred fifty years ago, no, there wasn't no way of knowing What the hell we'd drink today if he hadn't paved his way Mr. Coors, thanks for everything Oh, Mr. Coors, thanks for everything