Chill-axin’
High tide's up
And the water's coming in on the shore
Usually wait until vacation
But I sure can't take this city anymore
Work's been hell
And that rush hour traffic's never been a breeze
Ain't no hustle where I'm goin'
Just a warm trade wind a blowin' through the trees
I don't need no sympathy
That won't bring satisfaction
Just need to charge my battery
Had a bad reaction
Gonna do my best to decompress...
Chill-axin'
I could fire up my ol' motorcycle
And head up to the country where it's green
Maybe head up to Montana
But there's something about the ocean that's serene
Fifteen hundred miles
Still got seven hundred left to do
But it don't seem like forever
When you know that you're outrunnin' the blues
I don't need no sympathy
That won't bring satisfaction
Just need to charge my battery
Had a bad reaction
Gonna do my best to decompress...
Chill-axin'
There's a worm in the bottle and Wild Shot on the table
With some salt and lime and some mezcal maybe I'll be able
To find my paradise, put this broken world on ice...
Chill-axin'
High tide's up
And the water's coming in on the shore
I usually wait until vacation
But I just can't take this city anymore
And the water's coming in on the shore
Usually wait until vacation
But I sure can't take this city anymore
Work's been hell
And that rush hour traffic's never been a breeze
Ain't no hustle where I'm goin'
Just a warm trade wind a blowin' through the trees
I don't need no sympathy
That won't bring satisfaction
Just need to charge my battery
Had a bad reaction
Gonna do my best to decompress...
Chill-axin'
I could fire up my ol' motorcycle
And head up to the country where it's green
Maybe head up to Montana
But there's something about the ocean that's serene
Fifteen hundred miles
Still got seven hundred left to do
But it don't seem like forever
When you know that you're outrunnin' the blues
I don't need no sympathy
That won't bring satisfaction
Just need to charge my battery
Had a bad reaction
Gonna do my best to decompress...
Chill-axin'
There's a worm in the bottle and Wild Shot on the table
With some salt and lime and some mezcal maybe I'll be able
To find my paradise, put this broken world on ice...
Chill-axin'
High tide's up
And the water's coming in on the shore
I usually wait until vacation
But I just can't take this city anymore
Credits
Writer(s): Toby Keith, Scott W. Emerick
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.