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lyrics

Bless my soul, ain't you a real child bride
The kind of woman likes a little somethin wicked on the side
Here I'm passin through, there's you, here's me
Now that's quite a coincidence, wouldn't you agree?

See the bartender sendin us the two-o'clock stare
Like his distinguished clientele can go to hell for all he cares
So what you say about a little change of scenery?
You won't never love another devil like me

Your small-town boys, I bet they think they got magic
Pullin one quick trick with their little white rabbit
It's tragic, how slow you got to grow up, when
You know you're gonna have to go and grow up over again

See, I'm a travelin man, hustlin Houston to Phoenix
And I been down the road enough to know a couple dirty tricks
Honey, you oughta see how sinful sin can be
You won't never love another devil like me

Now, pardon my french, but honey, this is your life
A trailer in New Mexico, a bag-boy's wife
And I wouldn't know, but it sounds like a shame
To have to live with everybody knows your business and your name

Where I come from, things you do in the dark stay dark
Now buckle up, this here's a real mean car
And if I was you I know what I woulda thunk:
The hell's a man who sells insurance need with such a big trunk?

It's a beautiful night, there must be millions of stars
The desert goes forever out the window of my car
I ain't gonna lie, I been with ladies before
But funny, you're the first to mention ain't no handle on the door

Now there's two ways this can go, and neither one of 'em nice
But little darlin, if you like I'll give you piece of my advice:
Ain't no copping no plea, ain't no let's-make-a-deal
Your lover and your Maker wanna see if you're for real

Ain't no facin your fears, time for makin your peace
How many men ever get to hear a woman say please?
Just Jesus and me, and the desert makes three
You won't never love another devil like me

credits

from Adversary, released November 11, 2018

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The Blood Feud Family Singers Phoenix, Arizona

Up-tempo down-hearted poetic-philosophic country-fried hostility for sentimental haters.


A rollicking bad time.

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