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Dennis Brinson - Music - Sorry 'bout Your Luck

Genre:
Country
Added:
28-08-2014
Position:
80 in Country, 806 overall

Comin' down a mountain, I just left a gig
Gotta beer between my legs, holdin' a cig
Pumpin' on the brakes an' gainin' on a car
About twenty feet in front of my truck's brush guard

I was stompin' an' hollerin' to the radio
When from underneath my hood came a big puff o' smoke
Scared an' alone on the side of the road
With all the coyotes and bears and Lord only knows

Well it was cold that night so I didn't hang around
I stumbled to a bar on the outskirts of town
When I walked in with my guitar in my hand
An old shiner looked at me and said, "you must be the band."

[Chorus] I played that joint like it was the Bluebird
'til they ran outta beer, least that's what I heard
The barmaid brought me some shine in a cup
And whispered in my ear, "sorry 'bout your luck."

Well it was a long night and I got to thinkin'
If I keep playin', maybe they'll keep drink in'
And I wasn't sure what the hell to expect
'til Sandy Kilgore started getting' redneck

She danced on the table
In front of the stage
And her husband didn't like
The look that she gave me
When I started plain' 'Cigarettes and Wine'
And secretly prayin' I get outta here alive

[Chorus] I played that joint like it was the Bluebird
'til they ran outta beer, least that's what I heard
The barmaid brought me some shine in a cup
And whispered in my ear, "sorry 'bout your luck."

Well it weren't long after I'd finished that diddy
And I look over and Sandy'd whipped out her …
And I'm just a singer tryin' to survive
Well, he was a miner 'bout six foot five

So I grabbed my guitar and got to my feet
An' I tried to figure out the best way to the street
I stomped on his foot and I had to scoot
With Sandy and her husband in hot pursuit

[Chorus] I played that joint like it was the Bluebird
'til they ran outta beer, least that's what I heard
I made it up the road and jumped in my truck
And when I turned that key, sorry 'bout your luck

Played that joint like it was the Bluebird
'til they ran outta beer, least that's what I heard
The barmaid brought me some shine in a cup
And whispered in my ear, "sorry 'bout your luck."

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Individual musicianship
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Originality
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Composition
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Marketable
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