Whiskey For Sale

It's twelve AM, A midnight ride. I'm pokin' holes With my headlights. She took the dog. What the hell do I do? Hit the liquor store To forget about her. That slammin' door, Them four letter words. I don't mean love like the love we made. I mean hate, the kind the devil himself couldn't Take. I wanna drown in an alcohol river. Get down to the bottom of a barrel. Shoot boulevard straight as an arrow. Get every number seven on the shelf. You're a gone, but baby, I'm a goner. And I bet my bottom dollar that even if I could drink it all myself, there ain't enough Whiskey for sale. She took my cash, but forgot my Haggard. So pour one out And ten more after. The good Lord gives And takes away. I hate the burn, But I love the taste. I wanna drown in an alcohol river. Get down to the bottom of a barrel. Shoot boulevard straight as an arrow. Get every number seven on the shelf. You're a gone, but baby, I'm a goner. And I bet my bottom dollar that even if I could drink it all myself, there ain't enough Whiskey for sale. There ain't enough whiskey. There ain't enough whiskey for sale. She took my cash, but forgot my Haggard. So pour one out And ten more after, yeah. I wanna drown in an alcohol river. Get down to the bottom of a barrel. Shoot boulevard straight as an arrow. Get every number seven on the shelf. You're a gone, but baby, I'm a goner. And I bet my bottom dollar that even if I could drink it all myself, there ain't enough Whiskey for sale. There ain't enough whiskey for sale. There ain't enough whiskey for sale