Grand Ole’ Nothing- your possessions rusting. I found my place - with the junkies and skanks We live in the alleyways; Slurred speech and slick daisies She got a hand in my pocket, but I got a lock in a sock . Beat her to sleep When she calls the cops. Go down to the bar , where I know they’re expectin’ me. Raise my glass, raise my voice ; drink till I can’t see. Oh the law it just ain’t for my kind - But it’s OK Got nothing worth holding onto, I’ll be moving on soon When I die, don’t feel anything. Throw my ashes on the highway Did this whole thing my way Live fast the high way An’ ran out of luck. (Shucks….) If they knew what I’d done , they’d hang me tonight. But the sheriff’s daughter ain’t talking And no one’s seen her in a week . Pulled her teeth with a wrench sat on the curb had me a smoke . We sat there together, neither of us spoke . My love if I’m dying It’s gonna be a hot time in the old town tonight I’ll burn this motherfucker down ; warm my cold heart in the fire light. But it’s all right, Got nothing worth holding onto, I’ll be moving out of town tonight When I die, don’t feel a thing. Toss my ashes to the highway; did this whole thing “my way”; lived fast the high way- And ran straight out of luck. (Gettin’ bucked) Awwww, shucks…. Maybe seeing double but I’ve got two fist to swing . So I fucked your baby , dope dick drove her crazy Convinced her to pawn her wedding ring . Don’t get upset don’t look so pouty You can take her home just go another route, see I’m standing here enjoying my beer Having a good time, may get a bit rowdy. I go on down They say the law’s a’comin’ Run clean out of town With the sirens a-buzzing They won’t catch up to this cowboy Cocaine keeps me confident - Even though I’m high and all my money’s spent. Can’t even pay the rent But it’s OK Got nothing worth holding onto; I’ll be moving on soon When I die. Don’t feel anything. Throw my ashes on the highway. Did this whole thing my way. Live fast, the high way -an’ ran out of luck. (I already told you, I’m hanging up my saddle ‘n’ shoes…. But my shooter. He’s running amok.) Shucks.
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