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THREE THIRTY-THREE Copyright 2003 by MIKE GREGORY (Waltz Tempo) It’s halfway to Hell in the morning; the clock’s blinking three thirty-three. I’ve wandered on home from the tavern alone And the Devil is whispering to me. He says “Looks like another day’s wasted, And God knows how few might remain. You can’t crawl in a bottle, and hope there to throttle the memories that give you such pain.” He says “I’ve been the Devil a long time, Much longer than most people think, And the way that you do it won’t help you get through it And it’s no fun just watching you drink.” He says “Hell’s just a bit overcrowded, and that’s why I’m begging you, boy! We’re packed in and jammed by the folks who’ve been damned by the other folks that they annoy.” Then he tells me of all of the people, twenty-four out of each twenty-five, Who mutter “Oh DAMN you!” at people they don’t know, just ‘cause they don’t like how they drive! And it’s DAMN! all the telephone salesmen, and DAMN! politicians as well, and DAMN! all them kids with their music too loud, and that’s why it gets crowded in Hell. |
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This is a long one-3 pages. I was thinking about how much I really ENJOY holding on to a grudge. When you get to the bottom, just click on NEXT PAGE. My nephew (Scott Young) and a coup of his friends recorded the instrumental track, with me on banjo. |