In Franklin County, Virginia
They called them whiskey trippers
Someone had to keep the drunkards sipping
With White lightning in a jar
Was faster than their cars
Illegal but it only made them want it more
She was bright eyed and bold
As the story is told
She was running on the wrong side of town
Her engine it revved
Just as red as she bled
In an attempt to get away from the Feds
Run run run Wille run
With our rum rum rum Willie run
Try as they might
And oh what a sight
But her car it seemed given to flight
No matter your views
On a barrel of booze
Bet against her you're likely to lose
Run run run Wille run
With our rum rum rum Willie run
Oh there after her
Oh but she faster
With a gun to her head
But She'd rather be dead
Then to give up her rights to the Feds
She's the first on the scene
As the sirens they scream
A parade that seems fit for a queen
Run run run Wille run
With our rum rum rum Willie run
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The one, and only true friend I have in this world, wants to go sailing with his wife. He wants to even live on this imaginary boat, and give up living in his five bed-room house. All he talks about is "boats!" So, based on our conversations concerning his dream, I wrote this song.
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This is the the 8th song that I've written as part of a 100 day songwriting challenge - where I have to write a new song every day for 100 days.
It's all about seizing the moment and blocking out all of the stuff that gets in the way - Negative thoughts, existentialism, trivial worries.
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