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Brock Zeman
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Triple Crown
He's got hair to his elbows and snake skin boots
A rebel flag t-shirt and a jailhouse tattoo
He's sucking on a Camel, blowing smoke rings around the moon
He's way south of trendy but man, he's Texas cool
And he's talking to some lady with track marks up her arms
And he smiles like a salesman as he lays on the charm
But she ain't really listening, she just smiles from time to time
The dope in her purse is the only thing on her mind
At The Triple Crown barroom in San Marcos Texas
They've gotta band every night here, even on Christmas
Where the smoke stings your eyes and the beer's always cold
And God called in sick today so anything goes
At The Triple Crown
The guitar player's got a Stetson and a smoke dangling from his lips
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And he looks just as greasy as his guitar licks
The prettiest girl in the whole bar asked me what my name was
But the band was so goddamn loud that I never caught hers
But I got her hair in my mouth from screaming in her ear
And it smelled just like cigarettes and her breath smelled like beer
In my mind we got married and I moved to Austin that fall
And she learned every word to every one of my songs
So buddy pick your poison it ain't free but it's close
And there's beans and there's brisket out on the patio
Tear the hands off that clock or shoot it right off the wall
It's been happy hour since I got here how the hell are we getting home
Throw a dollar in the tip jar, wont you buy the band a beer
I'm going looking for that Austin girl with the pretty red hair
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