Standard (EADGBE)

You met him at the dance hall

 You only saw his charms

 You said he really swept you off your feet

Then one night he’s drinking

 and jealousy enraged

 He knocked out two of your front teeth

so you came over to hide out at my place

I guess I should have killed him there and then

but you begged me not to

now you say he’s changed

 and you’re gonna go back to him

Don’t give me that bull about how it’s for the children

A man like that could never be a dad

What happens when he kills you?

What will they do then?

Sometimes you ought to ask yourself that

Don’t go back to him he’s a wife beater

 You’d be better off with this potato eater

You say he’s changed, don’t be a fool

A man like that’s no good for you

A man like that’s no good for you

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff)

written on Elvis’ birthday 1/8/97 at the grocery store

dedicated with love to the great Tammy Wynette

Alabama Music Hall of Fame inductee

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DEMONIC POSSESSION

(chorus)

Demonic Possession

His court’s in session

I sign my confession

Demonic Possession

It was raining on the day she told me

them things that fella sold me

Mama wasn’t there to scold me

No prison or cell could hold me

I still recall the date

I’z probably about eight

when I sealed my fate

You honor I rightly state

(repeat chorus)

Suddenly I had a foot hold

I became such a butthole

I don’t need nobody consoling me

No one but the devil controlling me

I can kick ass and talk backward

I hang out with a whole bunch of slackers

and I know I can get some help from him

I listen to a lot of Led Zeppelin

(repeat chorus)

I got so much money I don’t need smarts

My records are flying to the top of the charts

and I’m eating in all those fancy restaurants

and Hanging out with Sam Phillips

and I owe it all to him

Oh, the shape I’m in

The devil says the only thing that’s buggin him

is Hell’s filling up with Republicans

(repeat chorus twice)

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff, Sell)

written in august 1996 during G.O.P. convention

recorded july 21, 1997

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THE TOUGH SELL

"She’s a beaute, yes sir she is" said EZ DAN, fifty five, a bad age,

smelling of Brute from Fabrege’ and sweat

EZ DAN don’t bathe a lot these days (and why the hell should he anyway?)

"She’s got a few miles on her, but then again, who don’t?"

he said with a slight chuckle, the recent Binaca Blast still lingering on his breath,

"and besides, them’s highway miles"

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other

it certainly wasn’t the car of my dreams, but the price was right

and EZ DAN assured me the mid 70’s were a particularly nice period

for Chrysler products in general

"and this one is a Volare’"

and besides, finally having an eight-track means I can play

all them tapes I ain’t been able to listen to since high-school

so we stuffed EZ DAN’s body in the trunk and hauled ass out of town

but somewhere just past the middle of nowhere the fuel pump blew

and the oil pump too, and the piston rods hurled straight through the engine block

dropping oil, gasoline, water, and anti-freeze onto the Alabama red clay below

Ain’t that a bitch?

I ain’t never been lucky with love

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff, and Sell)

written spring 96 recorded 7/21/97

dedicated to the Quadrajets 187 / 10-4

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THE LIVING BUBBA

The A chord used in this song is Asus2 as best as I can tell.

Intro

I wake up tired and I wake up pissed

wonder how I ended up like this

I wonder why things happen like they do

 but I don't wonder long cuz I got a show to do

I'm sick at my stomach from the A.Z.T.

Broke at my bank cuz that shit ain't free

but I'm here to stay (at least another week or two)

 I can't die now cuz I got another show to do

Don't give me no pity don't give me no grief

Wait till I die for sympathy

Just help me with this amp and a guitar or two

 I can't die now cuz I got another show to do

Don't give me no preachin' no self servin'

I ain't no angel but nobody's deserving

 I can dance on my own grave, Thank You!

 but I can't die now cuz I got another show...

Some people keep saying I can't last long

 but I got my bands I got my songs,

liquor, beer, and nicotine to help me along

 and I'm drunk and stubborn as they come

 chain smoking, guitar picking, til I'm gone

I ain't got no political agenda

 Ain't got no message for the youth of America

 'cept "Wear a rubber and be careful who you screw"

 and come see me next Friday cuz I got another show...

Some people stop living long before they die

Work a dead end job just to scrape on by

 but I keep living just to bend that note in two

 and I can't die now cuz I got another show...

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff)

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LATE FOR CHURCH

Transcription by Dan Reppert

Intro

X2

Late for church again

Never seem to be on time

Hear the bells as they peal through the holler

Doesn't sound like a friend of mine

A hundred eyes turn as I enter

Face burnin' as I walk past pews

I can tell they think I'm a sinner

Hear them whisper while I'm watching my shoes

Only seat left is right up front

I'm not a bit surprised

Back is soft but the seat is hard

Why can't they get it right?

Instrumental part

Reverend Bob is pointin' his finger

Mom and Dad follow every last word

All this hollerin' makes me wonder

Does a whispered prayer get heard?

Reverend Bob is preachin' out thunder

Fire and brimstone pouring down

Me, I'm wondering what's for dinner

Waitin' for 12 o'clock to come round

Everybody's got their own Heaven

They all find it their own way

I am an angel

lyrics by Adam Howell/Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers

� 1998 Soul Dump Music (BMI)

PANTIES IN YOUR PURSE

(chords pulled from altcountrytab.com)

Saw you standing in the hallway,

red plastic cup, and one of those big long cigarettes

You asked me if I could play you some Dylan

I said "Dylan who?" you told me to kiss your ass

I apologized, but you could tell I didn’t mean it by the way I rolled my eyes

and when you said it wasn’t me it was you

somehow I knew you were gonna tell me why

Solo break

Stuff was flying out of the window

falling and breaking on the pavement underneath

He’s screaming at you, red faced and fuming

He’d come home early, parked his car way up the street

You had your stockings in your hand, panties in your purse

it was ten a.m. and all the neighbors heard

him calling you a whore and a tramp

you just stood there while your heels sank into the warm wet ground

Solo break

He got a lawyer, you got a bottle

He got the children and you moved in with your mama

She fixes breakfast and lets you drive her car

she don’t care how late you call to tell her where you are

Y’all still fight and she still nags you some

but somehow it’s different now than when you were young

It’s your own damn fault you been threw hell

for one reason or another, seems like she kinda blames herself

WHY HENRY DRINKS

Intro

Them stories that you tell me are so hard to swallow

You said “Go to hell” but I know you’d just follow

The future’s closing in quicker than you think

 and hanging with you I know why Henry drinks

Those obnoxious drunks downstairs are fighting and cussing

and twelve years of me and you don’t add up to nothing

You say what’s on your mind - tell it to your shrink

 so he can know like me why Henry drinks

Just a few more hours till the sun comes back around

to tear each other down and drink another round

lost it on the way now I’m hating what we found

 mendacity and grudge-fucks and pieces out of town

I drink half a case of beer on my way home from work

Daddy needs his medicine to keep his hands off Mama’s throat

Baby, push a little harder cuz you got me on the brink

 of spilling more than guts about why Henry drinks

Telling you so much about why Henry drinks

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, and Neff)

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18 WHEELS OF LOVE

Intro

Mama ran off with a trucker

Mama ran off with a trucker

Mama ran off with a trucker

Peterbilt Peterbilt

He is making her give life another stab

They can see the world from way up in the cab

Mama ran off with a trucker...........

Peterbilt Peterbilt

She can quit her job and be his little bride

He can get a local route and stay home by her side

She can fix him roast beast and sweet potato pie

He can eat a lot of it cuz he’s a big ole guy

They got married in Dollywood

(by a Porter Waggoner lookalike)

18 Wheels of Love

for Mom and Chester, on the occasion of their marriage, July 1994

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers

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STEVE MCQUEEN

(chords and tab by Travis Kilgore from altcountrytab.com)

The G and C chords that the band uses are the ones where you keep your pinkie finger on

fret of the

E string and your ring finger on the third fret of the B string, and only raise the root

up a string to change from

G to C. (Sorry if that’s confusing, but I don’t know the names of those chords. Like

and Cadd9 or something odd like that.)

NOTE ON THE ABOVE (AND BELOW) SOLO TAB: I’ve watched Patterson Hood play this song

times, and this

tab is damn near on the money. The biggest difference between this and the way he plays

is that he starts the solo at the

7th fret of the A string (and changes the location of the second two notes accordingly),

I start it at the 2nd fret of the

D string. It’s just a question of which way you are more comfortable playing it, but

notes are the same either way.

In fact, I will tab out the second solo to begin the way Patterson plays it so you can

for yourself.

(INTRO/CHORUS)

 Steve Mc-Queen, Steve Mc-Queen

 W hen I was a little boy I wanted to grow up to be

 Steve Mc-Queen, Steve Mc-Queen

 The coolest doggone motherscratcher on the silver screen

 I’d drive real fast everywhere no one would ever catch me

 And I’d kick your ass if you pissed me off so be careful what you ask me

 And I’d never have an empty bottle or an empty bed

 And as cool as Paul Newman is I bet Steve could whup his head

Steve McQueen... (Repeat Chorus)

Bullet was my favorite movie that I’d ever seen

 I totaled my go-cart trying to imitate that chase scene

That Duster had six hubcaps, know what I mean

 And I love the way they all flew off when it landed in that ra-vine

Steve McQueen

(Repeat Chorus)

 I really loved The Getaway back when I was eight

 That pussy Alec Baldwin sucked in the remake

(Short instrumental break)

 And speaking of pussy, I guess Steve got it all

  … … …….

He fucked Faye Dunaway and he fucked Ali McGraw

 Steve Mc-Queen, Steve Mc-Queen

 When I was a little boy I wanted to grow up to be

 Steve Mc-Queen, Steve Mc-Queen

 The coolest goddamn motherf**ker on the silver screen

(yee-haw)

(Suddenly the scene turns slow and somber, as a campfire harp plays in the background.

On the album version of this song, the guitar here just plays the root note of the chord

during this verse. For my acoustic rendition I simply strum each chord once during the first

two lines, then strum the chords SLOWLY and SADLY on the third line. Then, sometimes I

do the same on the fourth line, and sometimes I sing it acapella. I will include the

just

in case you wish to strum it.)

 I went to see The Hunter on my first date

 The Hunter was the last movie Steve Mc-Queen lived to make

 (No, it’s not G this time. And hold it dramatically)

They took my drivers license when I was just six-teen

 The year Mesotheli-oma killed Steve Mc-Queen

next line of tab…)

 Steve Mc-Queen, Steve Mc-Queen

 When I was a little boy I wanted to grow up to be

 Steve Mc-Queen, Steve Mc-Queen

 The coolest goddamn motherf**ker on the silver screen

 The coolest goddamn motherf**ker on the silver screen

 The coolest goddamn motherf**ker on the silver screen

C G D C (C again, and

the hell out of this chord for a bit)

The coolest goddamn motherf**ker on the silver screen…

(Then really WAIL the last line…)

STEEEEEEVE MAAAAAACQUEEEEEEEEN!!!!

(Then just beat the hell out of G for the outtro…)

(c) 1998 Soul Dump Music

dedicated to my grandfather W. M. Patterson

(Mesothelioma is a rare cancer of the lining of the lung caused by exposure to asbestos.

mortality rate is known to be extremely high.)

BUTTHOLEVILLE

Tired of living in Buttholeville

Tired of my job and my wife Lucille

Tired of my kids Ronnie and Neil

Tired of my 68 Bonneville

Working down at Billy Bob’s Bar and Grille

The food here tastes like the way I feel

There’s a girl on the dance floor dressed to kill

She’s the best looking woman in Buttholeville

One day I’m gonna get out of Buttholeville

Gonna reach right in Gonna grab the till

Buy a brand new hat and a Coupe deVille

lay a patch on the road that runs over the hill

There’s a beach somewhere where the water’s are still

Gonna lay in the sun till my skin peals

Drinking the best scotch whiskey, eating lobster and eel

and I’m never going back to Buttholeville

Never going, never going, never going never going back!

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Adam’s House Cat (Cooley, Cahoon, Hood, Tremblay)

additional music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, Neff, and Stacy)

originally written in July 1988

a lot of folks back home really take issue with (and to a large extent misunderstand)

song.

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SANDWICHES FOR THE ROAD

All packed to go, baloney and mayonnaise sandwiches for the road

lay them out across the dash in the August sun

and if they turn green don’t be afraid

nothing can hurt you but yourself

nothing can hurt you but yourself

I been given to visions from time to time (Mighty fields of vision)

and the voice in my brain can be a little unkind sometimes

Go ahead, point it at me, I ain’t scared

nothing can hurt you but yourself

nothing can hurt you but yourself

and if you see me on the street and if I whop you on the head

you probably got it coming

and if you hit me back, we’ll call it even, but I ain’t going down easy

cuz my mama loves me and I got friends in Decatur, Alabama.

So drink another drink and smoke another cigarette

something’s gonna get us yet

Cuz I got ashes in my throat and I ain’t got no vote

it’s just the way I stand myself

nothing can hurt you but yourself

nothing can hurt you but yourself

lyrics by Patterson Hood

music by Drive-by Truckers (Cooley, Hood, Howell, Lane, and Neff)

written for and dedicated to the great Eddie Hinton

(His masterpiece, “Very Extremely Dangerous” is now available on Capricorn Records.

Fidelity has also recently released “Letters From Mississippi” and it is very fine.)

Thanks to Johnny “Sailcat” Wyker, Wayne Perkins, Dick Cooper, and Jimmy Johnson for the folklore.