If you like the music please share & subscribe, thanks!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BMr1VFgxzR8
https://www.youtube.com/@theartificialhomewreckers
https://soundcloud.com/theartificialhomewreckers
https://open.spotify.com/artist/0TuHLZaDhxt6bLGZGKukJ7
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/the-artificial-home-wreckers/1787896253
https://theartificialhomewreckers.bandcamp.com/
https://theartificialhomewreckers.com/
[Verse 1]
Neon moon over Red River lane,
Cheap beer foam on a dashboard stain;
Boot‑heel dust on a hardwood floor,
Hound dog’s howl through the screen‑door roar.
I tipped my Stetson, said, “Girl, you’re the one,”
Words ran wild like a colt on the run;
You grinned slow, lit a Marlboro spark—
Two lost hearts in a one‑stop park.
[Chorus]
I let that white‑oak barrel speak its mind,
Poured out promises, unrefined;
Now my heart’s still swingin’ in a honky‑tonk funk—
Stone cold drunk, but the truth’s red‑dirt sunk.
Can’t paint forever in a Saturday tune,
But, baby, slide back ’fore the jukebox croons;
When the rooster crows and the bottle’s shrunk,
I’ll still be yours—stone cold drunk.
[Verse 2]
Sun creeps in ’neath a rusty tin roof,
Coffee can’t kick this corn‑whiskey truth;
Bluebonnet sky through a spider‑crack pane,
Your name on my lips like a sweet sugarcane.
If last night’s talk was a freight‑train lie,
Then why’s your perfume still ridin’ my sigh?
I’m countin’ fence posts, hopin’ you feel it, too—
Stone cold drunk, but my aim’s on you.
[Chorus]
I let that white‑oak barrel speak its mind,
Poured out promises, unrefined;
Now my heart’s still swingin’ in a honky‑tonk funk—
Stone cold drunk, but the truth’s red‑dirt sunk.
Can’t paint forever in a Saturday tune,
But, baby, slide back ’fore the jukebox croons;
When the rooster crows and the bottle’s shrunk,
I’ll still be yours—stone cold drunk.
[Bridge]
Dusty eyes, but the road looks bright,
Don’t need sober stars to guide me tonight;
Your silhouette’s clearer than a church bell chime,
Rang out true through the bourbon and rhyme.
[Verse 3]
I bluff all week with a poker‑face grin,
But that rye last night let the tender roll in;
Said “Build us a porch on a sweetgum hill,”
Your laugh hit my ribs like a Tennessee thrill.
Folks might talk ’bout a bar‑room vow,
But a promise is a promise, and I’m keepin’ it now;
If you’re hummin’ those words as the daylight’s young,
Meet me by the silo when chores are done.
[Chorus ]
Yeah, that white‑oak barrel sure told the tale,
Put my heart in the open, no riderless trail;
If you’re yearnin’ warm when the tavern’s shrunk,
Come find your man—stone cold drunk.
I’m hollerin’ loud ’til the cowboys bunk,
Stone cold drunk, and I ain’t soberin’ up.
