Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Brad Paisley
Brad Paisley
Electric Guitar
Wes Hightower
Wes Hightower
Background Vocals
Ben Sesar
Ben Sesar
Drums
Bryan Sutton
Bryan Sutton
Mandolin
Eric Darken
Eric Darken
Percussion
Jim "Moose" Brown
Jim "Moose" Brown
Wurlitzer Piano
Justin Williamson
Justin Williamson
Fiddle
Kevin "Swine" Grantt
Kevin "Swine" Grantt
Electric Bass Guitar
Randle Currie
Randle Currie
Steel Guitar
Ron Block
Ron Block
Banjo
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brad Paisley
Brad Paisley
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Frank Rogers
Frank Rogers
Producer
Brian David Willis
Brian David Willis
Recording Engineer
Drew Bollman
Drew Bollman
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Hank Williams
Hank Williams
Mastering Engineer
Justin Niebank
Justin Niebank
Mixing Engineer
Richard Barrow
Richard Barrow
Recording Engineer
Steve Short
Steve Short
Assistant Recording Engineer

Lyrics

If I could write a letter to me And send it back in time to myself at 17 First I'd prove it's me by saying "Look under your bed There's a Skoal can and a Playboy No one else would know you hid" And then I'd say I know it's tough When you break up after seven months And, yeah, I know you really liked her And it just don't seem fair But all I can say is pain like that is fast and it's rare And, oh, you got so much going for you, going right But I know at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night She wasn't right for you and still you feel like there's a knife Sticking out of your back and you're wondering if you'll survive it You'll make it through this and you'll see You're still around to write this letter to me At the stop sign at Tomlinson and 8th I always stop completely, don't just tap your brakes And when you get a date with Bridget Make sure the tank is full On second thought, forget it That one turns out kinda cool Each and every time you have a fight Just assume you're wrong and dad is right And you should really thank Ms. Brinkman She spends so much extra time It's like she sees a diamond underneath And she's polishing you 'til you shine Oh, you got so much going for ya, going right But I know, at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night Tonight's the bonfire rally but you're staying home instead Because if you fail algebra, mom and dad'll kill you dead But trust me, you'll squeak by and get a C And you're still around to write this letter to me You've got so much up ahead You'll make new friends You should see your kids and wife And I'll end by saying have no fear These are nowhere near the best years of your life I guess I'll see you in the mirror when you're a grown man P.S. go hug Aunt Rita every chance you can And oh, you got so much going for you going right But I know, at 17 it's hard to see past Friday night I wish you'd study Spanish, I wish you'd take a typing class I wish you wouldn't worry and let it be Hey, I'd say have a little faith and you'll see If I could write a letter to me To me
Writer(s): Brad Paisley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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