Lyrics:
I need to find a country station
Where the DJ's heart is breakin'
Playin' Jones and Merle and Waylon all damn day
I'm so sick of doin' ninety
Cruisin' through the A-Town, with my window down, Southern Playalistic sound
Cruisin' through the A-Town, with my window down, Southern Playalistic
Bovio, Ferreira et al. Comparative study of various methods of fire danger evaluation in Southern Europe // International Journal of Wildland Fire. 2000.
SOUTHERN COMFORT
lyrics and music by Scott Thompson
Get the sun on your pretty head
Gonna move from the cold before we're dead
Gonna get some
At the station house one day
Was a lady old and gray
I could tell her heart was feelin' sad and low
With a teardrop in her eye
She was tryin' not
I still came to no conclusion. I'm still flipping they the stations.
Confused about shit man you know my heart is racing like
Dopamine. Keep that
Outta Southern Md, Outta Southern Md
Here I'm from, where I'm from
Let me tell you bout a place
I spent time growin up
Southern md
Kinda chill but
I cling to expertise
My treasure is my research
Affording me security and status on this earth
In afternoons, I skip stones
Ripples and data lines
I
In Southern California, West Coast Stoners
Waiting for the weed man to holla back
Cuz he got that marijuana, anything you want
Blueberry Trainwreck,
It had broken my fall, and i'm opprobrium drunk, humbly
Afraid i would age and slowly become ugly
Y'all doing your own research? I mostly conduct
southern streamline
[Chorus]
Well I got a little letter this morning
Just about the break of day
Bluebird ringin' my doorbell
Rollin' my bules away
make me famous
Play this song on every station
Put me on your favorite playlist
3,2,1, lift off, go crazy
Way to high
I'm up to something
I can barely
on down the line
Big wheels rolling right on time
Hear that whistle blowing
Hear that engine roar and whine
Take care of my baby
Riding on that southern
Southern trees, bearing strange fruit, blood on the leaves, and blood at the roots
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze, oh, black bodies
station map dot
That country air keeps callin’ my name
I went from a small town to city lights
But I miss those sweet southern summer nights
Somehow I find
Behind the wheel
His Hips twirl, like a dust bowl hurricane
All The Southern girls still waitin' at the station
For a blue-eyed King of rock n' roll
He's
and ever shall
But there's no one left here to tell
The world has gone black before my eyes
Well, the world of research has gone berserk
Too much paperwork
company leer jets
Five star meals, Caribbean vacations
Everything's plush deluxe accommodations
Nationwide, the stations vibe
To the cat who covers
way, no other way, there's no better way to live
Like sugar ass hoes that squeal, white king easy but real
Southern crunk but your station the bunk,
Southern crunk but your station the bunk, while the bass in the trunk
While you blazin' the gun an' too dirty, ain't no wastin' his bong
Representin'
like cartoons, southern cities with large moons
Faith healers, ex-female drug dealers and art booms
Apologize for my weird mix
What taste like hot
nothing more than high hopes
We hitched our station wagon to a star
But our dreams all fell in on us
'Cause there was no land of promise
And it's
what to do
Super
One day in southern California, I was moving free
Hopped in my ride and hit the corner, what a view to see
Had on a t-shirt, no
than high hopes
So we hitched our station wagon to a star
But our dreams all fell in on us
'Cause there was no land of promise
Though it's a stuggle
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