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Hank Williams Jr.
Hank Williams Jr.


Информация
Настоящее имя Randall Hank Williams
Дата рождения 26 мая 1949 г.
Место рождения Shreveport, Louisiana, US
Жанры Country
Outlaw country
Southern Rock
Country Rock
Годы 1957—н.в.
Лейблы Curb Records
MGM Distribution
Сайт Website



Альбом Hank Williams Jr.


Habits Old and New (1980)
1980
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I kicked the habit, of smoking back sometime ago
And I tried the hard stuff, but I had to let all that go
But the toughest thing, I ever gave up was today
'Cause old habits like you, are hard to break

I use lifesavers, to help me get off cigarettes
But you know for your love, I ain't found no lifesavers yet
And I've gone cold Turkey, 'cause there's not even one kiss a day
And old habits like you, are hard to break

Old habits like you, are hard to break
Love with someone new, is so hard to make
I had grown so used to you, and all of your ways
And old habits like you, are hard to break

. . .


Hey man, them ain't high heel sneakers,
And they sure don't look like cowboy boots.
And that ain't rock and roll you're playin'
And it sure ain't country or rhythm and blues.
You're singing a song about making love to your drummer,
Well, gay guitar pickers don't turn me on.
And we don't all get into Donna Summer,
Do you happen to know any old Hank Williams songs?

'Cause you see I'm a dinosaur,
I should have died out a long time before.
Have pity on a dinosaur.
Hand me my hat.
Excuse me man, but where's the door?

It used to be I had a lot of fun in this old hang-out.
We'd get stoned at the jukebox and stay out of fights.
Now and then, we'd light a little smoke in the truck out back,
Then a little old Jim Beam and we'd get right.
And you know these flashing lights sure make me dizzy
And this disco's very strange to my ears.
It looks like they've turned the Longhorn into a spaceship,
And I'll be leaving just as soon as I finish this beer.

'Cause you see I'm a dinosaur,
Should have died out a long time before.
There's a whole lot of dinosaurs,
So give us our hats.
Excuse me man, but where's the door?
Get us our hats.
Excuse me man, but where's the door?

. . .


Kaw-liga was a wooden Indian standing by the door.
He fell in love with an Indian maiden over in the antique store.
Kaw-liga just stood there and never let it show,
So she could never answer "yes" or "no."

CHORUS:
Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he never got a kiss.
Poor ol' Kaw-liga, he don't know what he missed.
Is it any wonder that his face is red?
Kaw-liga, that poor ol' wooden head.

He always wore his Sunday feathers and held a tomahawk.
The maiden wore her beads and braids and hoped some day he'd talk.
Kaw-liga, too stubborn to ever show a sign,
Because his heart was made of knotty pine.

Kaw-liga was a lonely Indian, never went nowhere.
His heart was set on the Indian maid with the coal black hair.
Kaw-liga just stood there and never let it show,
So she could never answer "yes" or "no."

And then one day a wealthy customer bought the Indian maid,
And took her, oh, so far away, but ol' Kaw-liga stayed.
Kaw-liga just stands there as lonely as can be,
And wishes he was still an old pine tree.

. . .


Here I am fallin' again, in places that I've already been.
I sure didn't plan it and I don't understand it but here I am fallin' again.
Here I am lyin' again making up places that I've never been.
I thought I was through with these heart breaking blues but here I am lyin' again.
Why don't a man ever take time to think what is at stake?
Is it the danger or the pleasurable stranger but those are the chances we'll take.

I'd hate to come face to face with her and her at the same place
cause it will be hell If I had to tell her someone has taken her place.
I had a beautiful wife,she found it all out one night
and the pleasurable stranger, lord I didn't change her and I lost it all this time.
So here I am cryin' again and callin' symphothy from my ole friends
he once loved her and she once him and here I am cryin' again.

. . .


I'm just a singer,
A natural-born guitar ringer.
Kind of a clinger,
To sad old songs.
I'm not a walk-behinder.
I'm a new note finder.
But my name's a reminder,
Of a blues man that's already gone.

So I started drinking.
Took things that messed up my thinking.
I was sure sinking, when you came along.
I was alone in the hot lights
Not too much left inside.
But she changed all that one night,
When she sang me this song.

Hey baby, I love you.
Hey baby, I need you.
Hey baby, you ain't got to prove to me
You're some kind of macho man.
You wasted so much of your life,
Running through the dark nights.
Let me shine some love light down on the blues man.

I got so sick from speedin'.
All the stuff they said I wasn't needin'.
If I was to keep pleasin'
All of my fans.
I got cuffed on dirt roads.
I got sued over no-shows.
But you came and took all that old load
Down off this blues man.

Hey baby, I love you too.
Hey baby, I need you.
Hey baby, I do get tired of this travelin' band.
I'm 30 years old now,
Nights would be cold now,
If you hadn't stuck it out with this blues man.
I'm 30 years old now.
Nights sure would be cold now,
If you hadn't hung around with this blues man.

. . .


I just had to show 'em
I didn't need 'em.
And so I headed out west to see some old friends of mine.
I thought if I'd climb up old Ajax Mountain,
Maybe that would help me get it all off my mind.

I made it up to the top,
Picked out a clear spot,
I thought a whole lot
About the rest of my life.
I had no idea then,
Soon it would nearly end.
Up on this mountainside,
I would nearly die.

And they're all in Alabama.
And they're all in Dixieland.
God, I'm dying here in Montana, please Lord,
I just want to go back to hold her hand.
Just let me get back to my old homeland.

They said I'd never sing again.
I learned a lot about my friends.
'Cause when you're shot down and out,
You don't get many calls.
But I saw some tears in some eyes,
Soon my poor old mother would die,
I nearly lost it all,
When I lost my grandpa.

But you can find us all in Alabama.
Yeah, we're all down in Dixieland.
I didn't die out in Montana, no Lord.
You let me get back to my old homeland,
And I'm gonna hold on to her hand.

I've done a whole lot of searchin'
A whole lot of hurtin'
Before I finally found my road in life.
You gotta say things you wanna say.
Go on and do things your own way.
And you can climb any old mountain
Once you make up your mind.

I made mine in Alabama.
And I found mine down in Dixieland.
I didn't die out in Montana, no Lord.
You let me get back to my old homeland.
And I'm gonna hold on to her hand.

. . .


If you fly in from Birmingham, you'll get the last gate
If you blew in from Boston, no you sure won't have to wait
And I'm learning, a little more every day
About the power of the dollar, and the people with white collars, and the good old American way

I've noticed I don't get much help, when they see my blue jeans
Some slick with a suit walks up, "Oh, can I help you please?"
Yes I'm learning, as I gain a little age
About the power of the dollar, and the people with white collars, and the good old American way

Some high society lady says, "Is your horse outside?"
"No, ma'am he's between my legs, but you're too fat to ride!"
And you're learning, a little more about my ways
And what I think about your dollar, and your white collar, and your good old American way

If you don't like my Nudie boots, I'm sorry about that
Don't make fun of my hat too, or you might get knocked flat
And you'll learn some more, if you ever pass down our way
About the folks without the dollars, and without white collars, hell they are the American way

(Suey)

. . .


I came in lastnight and I don't know when.
That woman of mine she wouldn't let me in.
I said Move it on over. Move it on over.
Move over little dog 'cause the big dog's movin' in.

She told me once, she told me twice.
I don't take no gal's advice.
Pack it on over. Move it on over.
Move over old dog 'cause the new dog's movin' in.

She told me not to mess around.
I done let that deal go down.
Slide it on over. Move it on over.
Move over skinny dog 'cause the fat dog's movin' in.

The dog house here is kinda small,
But it's got good sounds and they're wall-to-wall.
Get it on over. Move it on over.
Move over Little dog 'cause the new dog's movin' in.

She crawled back to me on her knees.
But I'm busy 'cause I got new fleas.
Get it on over. Scoot it on over.
Move over old dog 'cause the new dog's movin' in.

Yeah, I came in lastnight and I don't know when.
That second wife of mine, she wouldn't let me in.
I said Move it on over. Scoot it on over.
Move over old dog, the fat dog's movin' in.

Yeah, move over old dog. The hot dog's movin' in.

. . .


Won't it be nice to see you again?
Seems I've been gone since I don't know when.
I've had lonely nights and bottles for friends.
And it'll be nice to see you again.

Babe, I've been down since you've been gone.
It's hard to love over a phone.
But it won't be long now, 'till I hold you tight.
'Cause I'm coming home. I'll be there tonight.

No, I don't always get standing ovations.
I don't always knock the ball over the fence.
My life is not always a perfect situation.
And it'll be so nice just to see you again.

I used to hate to go home.
It's a bad feeling to be alone.
There's been some changes since way back then.
It'll be so nice to see you again.

. . .


I like Charlie Daniels
And I love big John Cash.
And I think Waylon "Wall-Tosser" Jennings is a table thumping smash.
Playing with Marshall Tucker Band was as good as smoking grass.
But anyone that don't like Hank Williams,
They can kiss our ass.

Cause I think what they done was well worth doin',
And they're doin' it the best that they can.
Oh, but you're the only one that you are screwin'
When you put down what you don't understand.

Now I love all them Allman Brothers, Merle Haggard and George Jones.
Shotgun Willie Nelson, and them rockin' Rolling Stones.
Everything the Eagles do.
I'm in love with Linda Rondstadt.
But anyone that don't like Hank Williams,
They can kiss our ass.

Cause I think what they done was well worth doin',
And they're doin' it the best that they can.
Oh, but you're the only one that you are screwin'
When you put down what you don't understand.

Oh, I ain't sayin' that he was the first, or the last.
But if you don't like Hank Williams,
You can kiss our ass.

. . .


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