Fiddle Intro: | | X2 | | | I closed my eyes in Dartmouth, woke up behind the wheel | | A mason jar of memories and four black tires squeal | | The first and last time that we spoke, you were lighting up a smoke | And shit was real! | | The Prisonaires were singing â??Just Walking in the Rainâ?� | | Thatâ??s how we got to Memphis and we made it home again | | Down the highway that I dream, with my blue eyes closed Iâ??ve seen | Beyond the frame! | | Oh the good times we had, I remember them, lads | | We could take any turn on a dime | | Quit reminding me, girl, Itâ??s a ragged old world | | Cause I donâ??t want to leave it behind | | No, I donâ??t want to leave it behind | | From a gas station in Texas, to the Bay of Fundy mud | My mind it goes a-wandering with the whisky in my blood | | Remembering the chance we had after the dance | Before the flood gates opened.... | ...Reality came rushing in | | Drowning out the past and chasing it with gin | | Iâ??ll find that place again, but let me first explain | Where do I begin? Chorus; | X1 | | | We picked up the sticks, gave it all we got | | The only time I liked playing hockey was in the liquor store parking lot | | On Hollis Street downtown, before they tore it down, | I took a shot! Chorus X2