Jockey Full of Bourbon - Joe Bonamassa

Edna Million in a drop dead suit

Dutch pink on a downtown train

Two dollar pistol but the gun won’t shoot

I’m in the corner in the pouring rain

16 men on a deadman’s chest

And I’ve been drinking from a broken cup

2 pairs of pants and a mohair vest

I’m full of bourbon;

I can’t stand up.

Hey little bird, fly away home

Your house is on the fire;

your children all alone

Hey little bird, fly away home

Your house is on the fire;

your children all alone

Schiffer broke a bottle on Morgan’s head

And I’ve been stepping on the devil’s tail

Across the stripes of a full moon’s head

Through the bars of a Cuban jail

Bloody fingers on a purple knife

A flamingo drinking from a cocktail glass

I’m on the lawn with somebody else’s wife

Come admire the view from up on top of the mast

Hey little bird, fly away home

Your house is on the fire;

your children all alone

Hey little bird, fly away home

Your house is on the fire;

your children all alone

Yellow sheets in a Hong Kong bed

Stazybo horn and a Slingerland ride

To the carnival is what she said

A hundred dollars makes it dark inside

Edna Million in a drop dead suit

Dutch pink on a downtown train

Two dollar pistol but the gun won’t shoot

I’m in the corner in the pouring rain

Hey little bird, fly away home

Your house is on the fire;

your children all alone

Hey little bird, fly away home

Your house is on the fire;

your children all alone