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Top Songs By Frankie Ballard
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Frankie Ballard
Lead Vocals
Ken Johnson
Background Vocals
Marshall Altman
Background Vocals
David LaBruyere
Bass Guitar
Shannon Forrest
Drums
Jedd Hughes
Electric Guitar
Rob McNelley
Electric Guitar
Tim Lauer
Keyboards
Dan Dugmore
Pedal Steel Guitar
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Monty Criswell
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Angela Talley
Assistant Engineer
Paul "Paco" Cossette
Assistant Engineer
Drew Bollman
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Marshall Altman
Producer
Justin Niebank
Mixing Engineer
F. Reid Shippen
Recording Engineer
Andrew Mendelson
Mastering Engineer
Lyrics
Me and the boys, we played every frat house and dive
We rocked the Razorbacks, the Vols, and the Crimson Tide
We were down and destined when she walked up to the stage
Dropped a note in the tip jar, blew a kiss and walked away
I counted two 200 dollars, one request for the Grateful Dead
A couple bottle caps, a business card, and a perfume note that said
I love hurricanes and long-necks, and guitars cranked up on ten
Waking up with the sunset, and hanging here at the Hog's Breath
Lighters raised up in the smoke rings, the sunburn on some new ink
I'm hearing Drift Away while you sing, and kissing beneath the stars
Man, you'll find all kind of things in a tip jar
I held her that summer, living on borrowed time
'Cause once September comes, everybody says goodbye
Now it's the last show and here she comes to the stage
Dropped a snapshot in the tip jar, blew a kiss and walked away
I counted 500 dollars, one request for the Grateful Dead
And a picture of her with those long tan legs, and on the back it said
I love hurricanes and long-necks, and guitars cranked up on ten
Waking up with you at sunset, and hanging here at the Hog's Breath
Lighters raised up in the smoke rings, the sunburn on some new ink
I'm hearing Drift Away while you sing, baby, take care of my heart
Man, you'll find all kind of things in a tip jar
I see lighters raised in the smoke rings, and sunburn on some new ink
I'm playing Drift Away but I can't sing, as she slips off into the dark
Man, you'll find all kind of things in a tip jar
Yeah, you'll find all kind of things in a tip jar
Writer(s): Monty Criswell
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