Slur

D F#m G D D A D A D A D They got a tongue that twists and turns and spits, a pocket knife whatever fits F#m A A gallon cold of liquor folded up next to the speaker D A D A D A D That preacher got a mouth on him, his shoes that shine, the widest brim F#m A To tip his hat to all the choir coming through the speaker D Bm I love my flag, I love my lawn G D F#m But I’m told this soon, will all be gone G D But I’ll sit here in my old wooden chair F#m A Cause I wake up at night and I am sweating with a fever D A D A D A D They got a gun to shoot to k**l to sit with on my lap and polish it with F#m A The blackest coal from Boothill sold at Texaco don’t he slur D A D A D A D His words and speech the drawl and drip, the chew and spit of all of it F#m A A gallon cold of liquor sold at Texaco don’t he slur D Bm I love my flag, I love my lawn G D F#m But I’m told this soon, will all be gone G D But I’ll sit here in my old wooden chair F#m A Cause I wake up at night and I am sweating with a fever D F#m G D