"Bourbon Whiskey"—Crooked Timber

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Bourbon Whiskey

(Music and lyrics by Scott Ryan)

I try my best to meet my obligations,
I try to keep my reputation clean—
I've got people who depend on me to get them through the week
So I try to have my good times in between.
But I've got myself a problem, 'cause I like to run around
With a lover who's as mean as mean can be—
You see, I love my bourbon whiskey
But my bourbon whiskey don't love me.

I see her face behind the bar just smiling at me—
I hear her call my name and tell me I'm her own.
Well, maybe I believe her, Lord, and maybe I should not,
But it beats the hell out of spending Saturday night alone—
Until I wake up Sunday morning with my head all filled with fur
And the light so bright it hurts my eyes to see
And find I love my bourbon whiskey
But my bourbon whiskey don't love me.

          Oh, that bourbon whiskey, she's the damnedest thing;
          The way she casts her spell on me is strange.
          By the time she's got me far enough that I need to change my mind,
          I have not got a lot of mind to change.

          Oh, that bourbon whiskey, she's the damnedest thing;
          The way she casts her spell on me is strange.
          By the time she's taken me far enough that I need to change my mind,
          I have not got a lot of mind to change.

I guess I need some rest and relaxation;
I guess I need to take myself away;
A honkytonk piano and a secondhand guitar
Are all I need to get me through the day.
I'm going to break off that relationship and tell that gal goodbye
And have myself a Scotch (or two, or three)—
It won't do to love my bourbon whiskey
When my bourbon whiskey don't love me.