[Verse 1: Barrel-chested heavy-blues male lead, heavy-blues shouted verse, thick overdriven blues guitar riff] End of the bar at the Rail Yard, that's my chair Twenty years of names on the wall back there Linemen, millwrights, a cop from the state A pro from the county fair who came in late Three hundred men put their elbow on the oak Three hundred men went home and they never spoke I don't lift, I don't run, I don't eat it clean I just sit at the bar with a hand like a machine Put a dollar on the wood and a beer on the side I'll give you the count and I'll give you the ride Ready, go, and I'm reading your face Ready, go, and your knuckles in place [Hook: Barrel-chested heavy-blues male lead, full band, heavy pounding drums] Put your elbow on the oak, give me your best grip Count it down, slam it down, watch your knuckles flip Twenty years, three hundred men, and never once I ran I know you like the back of my hand [Verse 2: Barrel-chested heavy-blues male lead, heavier heavy-blues verse, rumbling bass] Then a trucker from Ohio come in off the road Forearms like a cable on a bridge full of load Sat down slow and he planted his arm Didn't talk, didn't smile, didn't do no charm Ready, go, and the oak start to creak First time in twenty years that I felt a leak He pushed me back, one inch, then two Whole bar standing like they waiting on news Three inches off the wood and my wrist on the turn Bartender dropped a glass, let the whole place learn I looked at that trucker and I said hold on And I let go of his hand like the deal was gone [Hook: Barrel-chested heavy-blues male lead, full band, heavy pounding drums] Put your elbow on the oak, give me your best grip Count it down, slam it down, watch your knuckles flip Twenty years, three hundred men, and never once I ran I know you like the back of my hand [Verse 3: Barrel-chested heavy-blues male lead, right-hand slam, the whole band lands one massive slam as he switches hands and the riff comes back twice as heavy] Three hundred wins and I did 'em all left That's my weak side, son, I was saving the rest Switched to the right and I set it down square Ready, go, and his hand wasn't there One second flat and the trucker said damn Bought the whole bar a round and he shook my hand [Final Hook: Barrel-chested heavy-blues male lead, riff twice as heavy, raw full voice] Put your elbow on the oak, give me your best grip Count it down, slam it down, watch your knuckles flip Twenty years, three hundred men, and never once I ran I know you like the back of my hand [End]
