We swing and talked for hours in the moon of Dixie Land. Your father watched from the window as we held each other’s hands. His shot gun lay beside him I felt his eyes on me. Thank god he doesn’t know of the sex by the old oak tree. His daughter thinks I’m rich I drive a Cadillac. I’m just three payments out and the banker wants it back. I’d like to leave this porch and drive away real fast. But my wallet always empty and my Caddy’s out of gas.
Chorus:
Your father is a jerk he doesn’t really see. I’m a man of substance and the boys all envy me. I’m big and strong and dam good looking and he thinks that I can’t see. That he’s standing at the window with that shot gun aimed at me. If I run real fast I think I can hide behind his truck. He’s drunk as hell and can’t shoot straight he may be out of luck. So here I go; I’m off the porch; I’m running through the yard. I’m behind the tree; I’m at the truck; I’m breathing pretty hard. I’m in his truck I see the keys I’m backing out the drive. I think I may keep his truck and I’m glad I’m still alive. Keep the caddy your daughter too I’m trading for the truck. I found the title and signed your name and I’ll send you twenty bucks… ha, ha.
Chorus:
Your father is a jerk he doesn’t really see. I’m a man of substance and the boys all envy me.
Yep…the boys all envy me
© 2018 Kenneth Paul Wallace Writer: Kenny Wallace 155 Sunflower Dr. Linden,Mi. 48451 Ph: 810-240-044 kpw5554@gmail.com
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