Colorado Chris

Old boots on the wood
Rolled up muddy jeans
He's called Colorado Chris
And he sure seems to me
Like the king of that porch swing

I heard he's from Maine
But no one really knows
There's no time to ask
But the time you sit down
You're already half stoned

Ol Colorado Chris has got...

Four cars in the yard
Three sitting on blocks
You can buy, sell, or trade
Or just come by and steal
'Cause he sold off the locks

When some folks call the fuzz
Ol' Chris keeps his cool
It's just some PTA mom
Who needs something to do
While the kids are in school

He don't wanna work
He just wants to play
He'll sit on that porch and smoke reefer all day

Hell sing you a song
Hell tell you a tale
But you can't buy his time 'cause it ain't up for sale

His cash comes and goes
He's always bumming smokes
Trading car parts for weed
Working part time in town
Sure can keep a boy broke

He's two months behind
The rent on that place
But ol' Chris sure can love
And his landlady knows
He's got that way to pay

He don't wanna work
He just wants to play
Hell sit on that porch and just talk shit all day

Hell sing you a song
Hell tell you a tale
But you can't buy his time 'cause it ain't up for sale

Chris got him a dog
An ol' mutt he named peg
She must be 18 and she can't see a thing
But still sleeps in his bed

He says when ol' peg dies
Hell up and leave town
Might be Wyoming Will or New Mexico Nick
Another five years from now

He don't wanna work
He just wants to play
Hell sit on that porch and drink whiskey all day

He'll sing you a song
He'll tell you a tale
But you can't buy his time 'cause he ain't up for sale

You can't buy ol' Chris 'cause he ain't up for sale



Credits
Writer(s): Michael Furlong
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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