Well Of The Blues - Gary P. Nunn
Amoeba man he runs from hot wraps up from the cold
Old evil man he worries lot bout how he's gonna save his soul
And easy man maybe he like whiskey silly girl maybe she got caught
Ole lazy bones maybe he stays home he saw more than he sought
The well of the blues never runs dry
It never gets full enough of whiskey and rye
The well of the blues
Well now preacher man bad mouths the bottle momma pours it down the drain
Grandpa he likes to keep it in reach eases his favorite pain
And all year long old teetotalers' songs will echo grandpa's fall
But on the holiday, hell everything's O.K. the judges forget the law
The well of the blues never runs dry
It never gets full enough of whiskey and rye
The well of the blues
There's natural born winners and losers out lookin for the old time thrill
They have the indians luck with the burnin cup gets stuck by a whiskey still
Till it fills'the head and makes the bed spin like a wildcat drill
Borin a hole down deep in your soul that only the bottle can fill.