James McMurtry - Copper Canteen lyrics

Honey don't you be yellin' at me when I'm cleaning my gun I'll wash the blood of the tailgate when deer season's done We got one more weekend to go And I'd like to k** one more doe So I'll shovel the side walk again cause you're still in a stew And I bet the bridge tender's widow won't mind that I can't please you She sure got the run of the men Out here where the pickin's are thin there's not much to do I woke up last night In the grip of a fright Scared to breathe for I might make a noise But this life that we crave So little we save 'tween the grandparent's graves and the grandchildren's toys We grew up hard And our children don't know what that means We turned into our parents before we were out of our teens Through series of Chevys and Fords The occasional spin round the floor at the Copper Canteen Now the bix boxes out on the bypa** are shavin us thin I guess we'll hold on a couple more years till the pension kicks in Then we'll sell all the stock in the store Leave only the lock on the door and wonder what then When I wake up at night In the grip of a fright And you hold me so tight to your chest And your breath on my skin Still pulls me back in Till I'm weigthless and then I can rest So if Monseigneur should pull you aside as you're leavin the church And I'm out on the ice droppin lines for the walleye and perch Tell 'em it's not your job to bring me to the fold And I'd rather stand out in the cold And honey I know The woodpile's low and you can't close the flue So I'll split up a couple more chords 'fore the winter time's through Hold on to your rosary beads Leave me to my mischievous deeds like we always do