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Craig Morgan




Music World  →  Lyrics  →  C  →  Craig Morgan  →  Albums  →  My Kind Of Livin'

Craig Morgan Album


My Kind Of Livin' (03/08/2005)
03/08/2005
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Raymond's in his Sunday best
He's usually up to his chest
In oil and grease
There's the Martins walking in
With that mean little freckled-face kid
Who broke a window last week
Sweet Miss Betty likes to sing off key
In the pew behind me

That's what I love about Sunday
Sing along as the choir sways
Every verse of "Amazing Grace"
And then we shake the preacher's hand
Go home into your blue jeans
Have some chicken and some baked beans
Pick a backyard football team
Not do much of anything
That's what I love about Sunday

I stroll to the end of the drive
Pick up the Sunday Times
Grab a coffee cup
It looks like Sally and Rob
Finally tied the knot
Well it's about time
It's thirty-five cents off of ground round
Baby, cut that coupon out

That's what I love about Sunday
Cat napping on the porch swing
You curled up next to me
The smell of jasmine wakes us up
Take a walk down a back road
Tackle box and a cane pole
Carve our names in that white oak
I steal a kiss as the sun fades
That's what I love about Sunday

New believers getting baptized
Mama's hands raised up high
Having a Hallelujah good time
A smile on everybody's face
That's what I love about Sunday

Oh yeah
That's what I love about Sunday
Oh yeah

. . .


I've had big dreams come true
And I believe in angels
Although I can't see them
They're watchin' over everything I do
They're ain't no easy street around the bend in my road
No pot of gold at the end of my rainbow
But I don't mind
Cause, baby, I got you

The rain keeps the flowers from dyin'
The sun lights the world when it shines
The midnight sky has a blanket of stars an' the moon
And baby, I got you
I can't imagine one day without you in it
Life alone just wouldn't be worth livin'
Love would be a wish that never came true
Lord knows, I got more than I deserve
But I don't question: the prayers have been answered
I did something right, 'cause, baby, I got you

The rain keeps the flowers from dyin'
The sun lights the world when it shines
The midnight sky has a blanket of stars an' the moon
And baby, I got you

Oh, the rain keeps the flowers from dyin'
The sun (the sun)
Lights the world when it shines
The midnight sky has a blanket of stars and the moon
And baby, I got you

Keeps the flowers from dyin'
The sun (the sun)
Lights the world when it shines
The midnight sky has a blanket of stars and the moon
And baby, I got you
Yeah, yeah
Oh baby, I got you
Baby, I got you

. . .


I still get up an' make enough coffee for two.
An' every day, when I pray, I still thank God for you.
Even though my friends all tell me that you're long gone,
I'm gonna keep hangin' on to you.

When my heart ain't hurtin',
When I've got you off my mind.
When I know that I can make it,
Through one day without tryin'.
When I convince myself that I am really all alone:
Baby, that's when I'll believe that you're gone.

Here I am makin' plans for forever:
Me and you, what to do: we've done everything together.
My imagination's workin' overtime:
The pain has made me blind to the truth.

When my heart ain't hurtin',
When I've got you off my mind.
When I know that I can make it,
Through one day without tryin'.
When I convince myself that I am really all alone:
Baby, that's when I'll believe that you're gone.

On my own terms, (On my own terms.)
In my own time,
Soon enough, I'll admit,
You're no longer mine.

When my heart ain't hurtin',
When I've got you off my mind.
When I know that I can make it,
Through one day without cryin'.
When I convince myself that I am really all alone:
Baby, that's when I'll believe that you're gone.
Baby, that's when I'll believe that you're gone:
You're gone.

. . .


There's a plasic stretched across a broken window pane
You gotta dodge the pots an' pans on the floor when it rains
There's a ten-point buck on my livin' room wall
A squirrel and two ducks are hangin' in the hall
That hole in my yard is a barbecue pit
A couple times a year, we'll throw a hog in it
There's a four-wheel drive parked in my driveway
I'm a proud and active member of the NRA

Hey, I'm country: I was born and raised in it
I'm country, that's my kind of livin'
White beans, collar greens, sweet tea, chicken and dumplin's
Well, I get up every mornin' when the rooster crows
I stay out some nights until the cows come home
I'm dog-runnin', deer-huntin', fish-catchin', cow-tippin'
Hay-balin', pea-pickin' country

Well, there's my Mama in the rockin' chair by my screen door
The red, white, and blue hangs off of my front porch
There's my darlin' in the garden pickin' black eyed peas
Kids are bouncin' up and down on the trampoline
My truck cost less than my champion 'coon dog
My neck is painted red, by the Grace of God
My kids say: "Please, Sir, Thank you and Ma'am"
I ain't what I ain't, but I am what I am

Hey, I'm country: I was born and raised in it
I'm country, that's my kind of livin'
White beans, collar greens, sweet tea, chicken and dumplin's
I get up every mornin' when the rooster crows
I stay out some nights until the cows come home
I'm dog-runnin', deer-huntin', fish-catchin', cow-tippin'
Hay-balin', pea-pickin' country

Yeah, I get up every mornin' when the rooster crows
I stay out some nights until the cows come home
I'm dog-runnin', deer-huntin', fish-catchin', cow-tippin'
Hay-balin', pea-pickin' country

Yeah, I'm a-dog runnin', deer huntin', fish catchin', cow tippin'
Corn-pickin', cider-sippin', fight-startin', kid-raisin'
Wife-lovin', gun-totin', hay-balin', pea-pickin' country
Ha, ha, ha, ha

Yeah, I guarantee you, I'm country
I ain't scared to be country neither

. . .


His life is that blue bike, ball glove and fishin' pole,
Tree-house, BB gun and band-aid covered knees.
He does good deliverin' papers,
An' cuttin' grass for the neighbors,
Except for Widow Wilson: he cuts hers for free.
His little hands do a lot for a kid his age,
He puts one-tenth of his hard earned money,
In the offerin' plate each Sunday by his own choice.
There's a lotta man in that little boy.

Weekdays, he tries to sleep late:
Weekends, he's up at daybreak.
Him and Roy wadin' in Cotton Creek.
That dog was like his brother:
You see one, you seen the other.
Cut one an' both of them would bleed.
Tires screamed, but that ol' truck couldn't stop.
There's the tree that he buried him under;
He made a cross from scraps of lumber,
An' on it carved: "God Bless ol' Roy."
There's a lotta man in that little boy.

There's a house, down where he goes fishin':
He told his Mom: "Those kids got nothin',
"And I don't need all these toys."
There's a lotta man.
(There's a lotta man. There's a lotta man.)
In that little boy.

. . .


My car broke down on our first date;
We missed the movie an' we never ate;
It was freezin' cold an' the heater broke.
I apologized: you kissed me goodnight,
An said: "It couldn't have been any better."
Girl, if you like that, you're gonna love forever.
If you like that ring you saw in the window,
In the jewellery store down town.
If you like tuxedos an' white satin dresses,
Maybe you better sit down.
If you like driftin' off to soft pillow talk,
An wakin' up together,
Girl, if you like that, you're gonna love forever.

If you like livin' on a rural route,
Fixin' up an' old farmhouse.
Hugs with your coffee and your good mornin's with a kiss
If you like startin' a fire on a cold winter's night,
An' makin' dreams come true together:
Girl, if you like that, you're gonna love forever.

If you like that movie we saw last September:
The one you cried half way through.
If you liked that scene where he got down on one knee,
Girl, have I got somethin' for you.
If you like love like wine that grows sweeter with time,
An' keeps gettin' better an' better,
Girl, if you like that, you're gonna love forever.

Instrumental Break.

If you like love like wine that grows sweeter with time,
An' keeps gettin' better an' better,
Girl, if you like that, you're gonna love forever.
Girl, if you like that, you're gonna love forever.

. . .


Ol' Jimmy, real hard worker, loadin' trucks at the Feed and Seed
Well-liked, really nice fella: that's why it's hard to believe
One day, two counties over, he got caught with another man's wife
Shots fired, smoke cleared: her husband took Jimmy's life
In an instant, all the good stuff he'd ever done was all gone
Now everybody just remembers the one thing that he did wrong

You can have it all an' in the twinklin' of an eye
It can all turn around
If I live here on this earth another hundred years
Or die 20 seconds from right now
That ain't the way that I wanna go out

Rob Jenkins, sittin' on the back pew: head bowed an' his eyes closed
Preacher talkin' 'bout gettin' to Heaven, said: "Brother would you like to go?"
White knuckles holdin' his Hymnal, while the choir sang Amazing Grace
He stands up, full of conviction: turns 'round an' runs out of that place
Hops in his truck, says to himself: "Next Sunday, I'm a-gonna get saved"
Runs a red light, hit broadside an' next Sunday is way too late

You can have it all an' in the twinklin' of an eye
It can all turn around
If I live here on this earth another hundred years
Or die 20 seconds from right now
That ain't the way that I wanna go out

I'm gonna do right, an' make sure I ask forgiveness before I go
I'm gonna take time, 'cause it's a fine line
Between here an' "You never know"

You can have it all an' in the twinklin' of an eye
It can all turn around
If I live here on this earth another hundred years
Or die 20 seconds from right now
That ain't the way that I wanna go out
That ain't the way that I wanna go out
No I don't wanna go out

. . .


Meetin' my buddies out on the lake
We're headed out to a special place we love
That just a few folks know
There's no signin' up, no monthly dues
Take your Johnson, your Mercury or your Evinrude an' fire it up
Meet us out at party cove
Come on in' the waters fine
Just idle on over an' toss us a line

Bass-trackers, Bayliners and a party barge
Strung together like a floating trailer park
Anchored out and gettin' loud all summer long
Side by side, there's five houseboat front porches
Astroturf, lawn chairs and tiki torches
Regular Joes rocking the boat, that's us
The Redneck Yacht Club

Bermuda's, flip-flops and a tank-top tan
He popped his first top at ten a.m.: that's Bob
He's our president
We're checkin' out the girls on the upper deck
Rubbin' in 15 SPF, its hot
Everybody's jumpin' in
Later on when the sun goes down
We'll pull out the jar and that old guitar
An' pass'em around

Bass-trackers, Bayliners and a party barge
Strung together like a floating trailer park
Anchored out and gettin' loud all summer long
Side by side, there's five houseboat front porches
Astroturf, lawn chairs and tiki torches
Regular Joes rocking the boat, that's us
The Redneck Yacht Club

When the party's over and we're all alone
Well be making waves in a no-wake zone

Bass-trackers, Bayliners and a party barge
Strung together like a floating trailer park
Anchored out and gettin' loud all summer long
Side by side, there's five houseboat front porches
Astroturf, lawn chairs and tiki torches
Regular Joes rocking the boat, that's us
The Redneck Yacht Club

Redneck Yacht Club
(Na na, na na, na na, na na, na na, na na)
(Na na, na na, na na, na na, na na, na na)

The Redneck Yacht Club
(Na na, na na, na na, na na, na na, na na)
(Na na, na na, na na, na na, na na, na na)

. . .


It's 98 in the shade an' Mr Rose is rollin' hay.
Eighty acres down an' ten to go.
Clouds are buildin' in the south, he knows time is runnin' out,
An' there goes that tractor's radiator hose.

There ain't no tricks in his straw hat; he walks a quarter mile back.
Miss Rose hears him slam that ol' screen door.
What he sees as wasted time is a blessing in disguise,
Oh, he's cussin' what she's been prayin' for.

The day turned dark as night, and in her eyes he saw the light,
He hadn't taken the time to notice.
From Heaven, it poured down on that little old farm house:
Lord knows what to do when love needs time for growin':
He sends rain for the Roses.

She pulled down the window blinds even though the sun wasn't shinin':
The rain tapped out a love song on that old tin roof.
Wrapped up in the covers, they held on to each other,
Like new lovers on their honeymoon.

The day turned dark as night, an' in her eyes he saw the light,
He hadn't taken the time to notice.
From Heaven, it poured down on that little old farm house:
Lord knows what to do when love needs time for growin':
He sends rain for the Roses.

Instrumental Break.

Lord knows what to do when love needs time for growin':
(He sends rain for the Roses.)
The Lord sends rain for the Roses

. . .


She's pony-tailed an' she's halter topped
Her bumper-sticker says: "I hate hip-hop"
With a southern drawl, she says: "Howdy, y'all"
And her hands ain't afraid of dirt
He's proud of his old truck
He spray painted over dents and rust
The motor smokes, it's got four bald tires
But the radio works
Raised on the Good Book and our country songs
Ridin' down back roads an' singin' along

So blame me for the way they are
Their love of the fiddle and the steel guitar
Blame me for their cowboy hats
Roper boots, Wrangler jeans, and rifle racks
If you wanna point a finger at somebody
For the way they've been led
Blame me

They were kids when Hag and me came to town
All eyes and ears: look at 'em now
Center stage on the Grand Ole Opry
On a Saturday night
Sing of fishin' and the Lord above
Fallin' in and out of love
From Aunt Bea to Uncle Sam
And that American Pie
From big cities to the little towns
Were hard-core country inside and out

So blame me for the way they are
Their love of the fiddle and the steel guitar
Blame me for their cowboy hats
Roper boots, Wrangler jeans, and rifle racks
If you wanna point a finger at somebody
For the way they've been led
Blame me

Blame me for the way they are
Their love of the fiddle and the steel guitar
Blame me for their cowboy hats
Roper boots, Wrangler jeans, and rifle racks
If you wanna point a finger at somebody
For the way they've been led
Blame me
Blame me
Blame me, yeah

. . .


As he climbed in the chute, the crowd held it's breath
He was seconds from glory or moments from death
They knew with this bull, it could go either way
He said: "Let her go boys, an' pray"

He hung on for eight but he couldn't get loose
That's when a clown they call Crazy came to his rescue
When the dust finally settled, they both walked away
Yeah, they became best of friends that day

The cowboy an' clown, close as two brothers
Chips up or down, they could count on each other
Buckles an' beers, winnin' an' losin'
Laughter an' tears, broken hearts an' bruises
They lived for the next final round
The cowboy an' clown

From Denver to Dallas, to the Calgary Stampede
They took all those towns, an' a few in between
But it ernded one night, in a West Texas town
The bulls either got faster, or ol' Crazy slowed down

Five hundred pick-ups, lights on, drivin' slow
A tent on the hill at the end of the road
When the last Bible closed, one cowboy stayed
He said: "Let her go boys, and pray"

The cowboy an' clown, close as two brothers
Chips up or down, they could count on each other
Buckles an' beers, winnin' an' losin'
Laughter an' tears, broken hearts an' bruises
They lived for the next final round
The cowboy an' clown

. . .


If you see a pick-up truck with a plastic 'coon dog
Mounted on the hood
If you pass trailer with a concrete donkey in the yard
An' tires up on the roof
An' if you see a woman in a moo-moo
Readin' Tarot cards an' palms down by the road
That's how you know; that's how you know
You're in my neighborhood

In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood

When the wind is just right, you can tell they're makin' paper
At the mill on Champion Lane
When Mabel Johnson goes to fry 'em Rocky Mountain Oysters
You can smell 'em from a mile away
You might hear the church bells playin' "Sweet Home Alabama"
'Cause the preacher loves rock an' roll
That's how you know; that's how you know
You're in my neighborhood

In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood

In my neighborhood
There's nothin' ordinary about the regular folk
In my neighborhood
We make our own wine outta berries we grow
A word to the wise: when they turn out the lights
It's a free-for-all, y'all, every Saturday night
But everybody treats everybody they way they should
In my neighborhood
In my neighborhood

. . .


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