Amoeba
Man
Amoeba man runs from high,
wraps up from the cold
An old evil man he worries like,
about how he's gonna save his soul
An easy man, maybe he like whiskey
Silly girl, maybe she got caught
No lazy bones, maybe he stays home
He saw more than he saw
The well of the blue
It never runs dry
It never gets cold enough
For whiskey and rye
The well of the blue
Well, now preacher man,
badmouths about him
Mama pours it down a drain
Old
Grandpa, he likes to keep it in reach
Eases his favorite pain
And all year long, old teetotalers songs
Echo
Grandpa's fall
But on the holiday, hell,
everything's okay
The judges forget the law
The weather, the blues
Seems to never run dry
Never gets cold enough
No whiskey and rye
The the blues
There's natural born winners and losers
Out a -lookin' for the old -time thrill
To have the
Indian's luck with a burning cup
Get stuck by a whiskey still
Until it fills the head and makes the bed
Spin like a wild cat drill
Or in a hole down deep in your soul
That only the bottle can fill
Well, the blues ain't the never -run -dry
It never gets fallin' dry
Without a whiskey and rye
Well, the blues, oh, it never runs dry
It never gets old enough
Never full enough of whiskey and dry
Well, I love you
Yeah, I'll never run from you
It never gets old enough
you