Smokey

Somewhere in a small town, in a one room tin roof shack
Living life kinda slowed down, 3 miles from the rail road track
Staying close to the river, Killing time fishing down the old wood lake
Lives a man on mission, to stay away from the rat race

He's a quiet kind a soul with no family ties
Just a rifle on his arm and a dog by his side

Home cooking on a campfire, burning wood from the Georgia pine
Sipping whiskey from a hip flask, the only thing left to him when his daddy died
Steady living in the slow lane, you don't need much when you got all you need
Nobody knows his real name, they call him Smokey cos he drifts on the wind

He's a quiet kind a soul with no family ties
Just a rifle on his arm and a dog by his side

When the sun gets low, he picks the blues on an old guitar
He like to let it all go, smoke it on up to the moon and stars
No he's not afraid of dyin', He knows too many people on the other side
He says, you can't change what's comin'
So to be safe he keeps a bible on the bed side

He's a quiet kind a soul with no family ties
Just a rifle on his arm and a dog by his side

He's a quiet kind a soul with no family ties
Just a rifle on his arm and a dog by his side



Credits
Writer(s): Kezia Hughes
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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