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He was spinnin' wheels, makin' deals
Wild-eyed in his 20s
With nothin' in the way of work he was ever fit to do
It was for the birds, he worked with words
The thing is, words work funny
You weld 'em right, you know they're liable to affect the way you move
Frontin' him, a country band
A buncha rockin' barkin' deadbeats, man
He played a gig with us one night
When he was cuttin' teeth

Hustle high, hustle low
Hearken out that band window
The price of gas is getting low
In the pocket of the seat
Of his pants, he has had tightenin' 'round his body
Livin' off tavern's fare, drowning in the grease
Frontin' him, a country band
Roaddoggin' in a stripped-out van
Bummin' powder in the bar light
When they were cuttin' teeth

You can yell, you can croon
You can reach the fire code of any room
With a catchy song or two, if they're sang in key
There's room for error if the band is there
In a way, it's 'bout like baseball
He swings a bat left-handed
He's gonna walk at least
Frontin' him, a country band
A buncha West Virginia deadbeats, man
He split the door with us one night
When he was cuttin' teeth
He played a gig with us one night
When he was cuttin' teeth