Correction Paroles Ain’t Livin Long Like This (Live at The Ryman / 2018) par Sturgill Simpson

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Paroles

We'll do a song here by, uh
By Rodney Crowell
Yeah, turn that sh*t up

You look for trouble and you found it, son
Straight down the barrel of a lawman's gun
I tried to run, but I don't think I can
You make one move and you're a dead man, friend
Ain't living long like this
No, I can't live at all like this, can I, baby?

He slipped the handcuffs on behind my back
And left me bleeding on a steel reel track
They got 'em all in the jailhouse, baby
Ain't living long like this

Grew up in Houston off of Wayside Drive
Son of a carhop and some all-night dives
Dad drove a stock car to an early death
All I remember is a drunk man's breath
Ain't living long likе this, hey
No, I can't live at all like this, can I, baby?

You know thе story about the wheel goes 'round
Don't let 'em take you to the man downtown
Can't sleep at all in the jailhouse, baby
Ain't living long like this
No, I can't live at all like this, can I, baby?
Woo, come on

You live with Angel, she's a roadhouse queen
Makes Texas Ruby look like Sandra Dee
You wanna love her, but you don't know how
You're at the bottom of the jailhouse now
Ain't living long like this, hey
No, I can't live at all like this, can I, baby?

You know the story 'bout the jailhouse rock
Don't wanna do it, but just don't get caught
Can't sleep at all in the jailhouse, baby
Ain't living long like this
No, I can't live at all like this, can I, baby?
No, I ain't living long like this
(Woo, yeah)

Thank you, Nashville
Sturgill Simpson
Tip your bartender
This is a song that, uh, my husband wrote
This is called "Revelations"
And, uh, I maybe wrote ten percent
You know, when you're married
You like to argue about who has the writing credits
But, uh, this is, this a song, uh
It's about Jesus, if he was a traveling musician
And he'd just gotten dropped by his label

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