He was spinnin' wheels, makin' deals
Wildeyed in his twenties
With nothin' in the way of work
He was ever fit to do
It was for the birds; he worked with words
The thing is, words work funny
You weld 'em right, you know they're liable
To affect the way you move

Frontin' him, a country band
A buncha rockin' barkin' deadbeats, man
He played a gig with us one night
When he was cuttin' teeth

Hustle high, hustle low
Hearken out that band window
The price of gas is getting low
In the pocket of the seat
Of his pants, he has had
Tightenin' 'round his body
Livin' off tavеrn's fare
Drowning in the greasе

Frontin' him, a country band
Roaddoggin' in a stripped-out van
Bummin' powder in the barlight
When they were cuttin' teeth

You can yell, you can croon
You can reach the fire code of any room
With a catchy song or two
If they're sang in key
There's room for error if the band is there
In a way, it's 'bout like baseball
He swings a bat left-handed
He's gonna walk at least

Frontin' him, a country band
A buncha West Virginia deadbeats, man
He split the door with us one night
When he was cuttin' teeth
He played a gig with us one night
When he was cuttin' teeth