Upcountry Lemonade

Fake my death

Make up a reason to call it all off

I'm calling off of your clock

We've got a love too sick to work here anymore

In the summer when the garden died

You were growing your answers one at a time

I'm still working on mine

I'm a few good rains away from Shangri-La

I'm gone first thing tomorrow

Lips on the upcountry lemonade

I'm on an 80-somethin' Honda

I'm gone first thing forever

Alright

Alright

Hold my hair

I'm throwing up gravel and a stomach of surrender

Columbine brushing the fender

With my shorts still wet from jumping off the dock

Baby, I don't want to meet my end

Running a half in and a half out gamble

I wanna rest and I wanna ramble

Find a love like a country moon to keep me in my lane

I'm gone first thing tomorrow

Lips on the upcountry lemonade

I'm on an 80-somethin' Honda

I'm gone, gone, gone forever

Alright

Alright