all love songs are sad songs

Brewton, Alabama at The Colonial Inn,
Hot day, old orange juice and vodka on a night stand.
There's a Chevy Nova with the seat burned out the back
From a Winston cigarette that was sthumped into the window.
Bobby Long was like Zorba the Greek,
Side-tracked by the scent of a woman.
Could've been an actor on the moviescreen,
Stayed in Alabama just a dreamer of dreams.
He played football against W.S. Neil
Should've seen him running down the field.
I grow old, I grow old, I wear the bottoms of my
Trousers rolled.
It's a love song for Bobby Long.
A love song for Bobby Long.

He was a handsome man, he had Cherokee cheeckbones.
A fair haired boy, where did he go wrong?
He chose the road less travelled, made all the difference.
Now he's chastized, criticized, he don't make no sense.
Brewton called him crazy, said Bobby Long was nothing but a drunk.
But all the thoughts in his head was way passed anything they done thunk.
It's a love song for Bobby Long.
A love song for Bobby Long.

But don't get me wrong, Bobby Long wasn't no good.
He'd drag you down if he thought he could, Well he would, drag you down.
The road I ride will be the death of me.Won't you come along?
The road I ride is gonna set me free.It's gonna take me home.
He was a friend of my papa's he used to drink and tell lies.
Praised Flannery O'Connors, smoked cigarettes and philosophied.
So here I am at The Colonial Inn.
Me and Cap'n Long and my pretty girl-friend.
Well he charmes her with a poem, then he brakes down and cries,
Smiles a crooked smile, with his broken cheeck-bone side.
Tells about his life, now he's 63.
He looks me in the eyes and says come and go with me.
He could walk on water, walk on water,
But you know he drowned himself in wine.
God and the devil, God and the devil, God and the devil along inside his mind.
It's a love song for Bobby Long.
A love song for Bobby Long.

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