Cracking the Flacks
Song Info:
Written by Pete Briley
Instruments:
Male Vocal, Acoustic Guitar, Pedal Steel Guitar, Bass Guitar, Drums
ISRC:
UKZXB2400002
Versions Available
Full, Instrumental, Cut Down, A Capella
Lyrics
A whiskey for the wanderlust and the girl at table 3, who always kept her one good eye on me
A skinny kid, 19 today, armed with a telecaster, centre stage though I could hardly play
And the sun was cracking the flacks and shining on me
I felt sorry for the folks who weren’t drunk enough to notice
I see more ghosts now I’m closer to being one
I never got it right
I never got it right
No one’s writing songs about the place where I come from, in fact no one really cares for it at all
The self proclaimed poet prince of the southern dust, I headed north to pull a sword from a stone
The sun was cracking the flacks and shining on me
I felt sorry for the folks who weren’t drunk enough to notice
I see more ghosts now I’m closer to being one
I never got it right
I never got it right
Life didn’t turn out quite the way I’d planned it
But I guess that ain’t so bad, given where I landed