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The Devil Buys the Rounds

Once upon a perfect storm Grace Lenore the girl next door

Caught her halo on my horns where “never” is meant to be.

Grace would say she’d set me straight; Mama said her heart would break

It’s too late you’ll never make an honest man of me.

 

It’s always happy hour at that tavern in the clouds

And last call at the dive bar in that furnace underground

So, fare thee well my darlin gonna miss you where I’m bound

‘Cause sure as angels pour your drinks the devil buys my rounds.

 

Grace up on the church house steps; me dressed my Sunday best,

Last night’s whisky on my breath and women on my mind.

Cigarettes with Mary Jane rolled up with a scripture page

Stole the whole collection plate and turned it into wine.

 

It’s always happy hour at that tavern in the clouds

And last call at the dive bar in that furnace underground

So, fare thee well my darlin gonna miss you where I’m bound

‘Cause sure as angels pour your drinks the devil buys my rounds.

 

Preacher said I ain’t no good, Grace prefers misunderstood.

Doctor says I can’t be cured I’m crazy as they come.

Reckless, careless, born to lose; three sheets windy, pass the booze

You say, “what would Jesus do?” and I’ll do what I want.

 

It’s always happy hour at that tavern in the clouds

And last call at the dive bar in that furnace underground

So, fare thee well my darlin gonna miss you where I’m bound

‘Cause sure as angels pour your drinks the devil buys my rounds.

 

Grace fell on her knees and prayed still I wouldn’t change my ways.

Blind love slowly turned to hate, I pushed her way too far.

Shot me right between the eyes, carried out her own demise.

Left a note penned with goodbyes signed with a broken heart.

 

She’s gone happy hour at that tavern in the clouds

But when she reached those pearly gates, St. Peter kicked her out

Me and my fallen angel in that furnace underground

Forever tied together where the devil buys the rounds.