Track 1561/7Mean Old Son Of a Gun

These lyrics were transcribed with the help of AI tools, so please keep in mind that there could be some inaccuracies.

Nobody's calling on the telephone Nobody's knocking on my front door It's a cold old wind that whistles 'round me So I drink a lot of beer, watch a lot of TV Ain't no letters by my front door Ain't got no dates in my calendar Some misty rainy evening that clings to me 'Cause I'm a mean old son of a gun Y'all see My inbox is only full of junk I drank at a bar, was the only one who got drunk Floors turn up around my wrists I get a two for one and booze for six Doors slam shut when I pass Windows roll up and they step on the gas 'Til gray old sky hangs over my head 'Cause I'm a mean old son of a gun Get bent Birds all sing when I'm around Baby's cryin', dogs go to ground It's a plummetin' fog that just won't let me be I try to be nice but that stuff just ain't me I said now, give me grace, give me hope I got a rocking chair on my front porch Lit cigar in me and my butt shot 'Cause I'm a mean old son of a gun Give me grace, give me hope I got a rocking chair on my front porch It's a lit cigar in me and my butt shot 'Cause I'm a mean old son of a gun 'Cause I'm a mean old son of a gun 'Cause I'm a mean old son of a gun Anybody else want some? Now get off my damn porch, boy!