SingSnap Original by ThomasRedheart

ThomasRedheart - SingSnap Original

ThomasRedheart

May 16, 2025 08:15am

Five Good Years    Lyrics By: Thomas W. Peterson AKA RedHeart    ©COPYRIGHT 5–16-25 All Rights Reserved ©   Verse 1   My boots got more miles than this old tour bus,    Guitar neck’s worn smooth where my calluses fuss.    The mirror shows cracks, but my voice still rings true –    Got five good years left of singin' these blues.     Chorus    Five good years to chase that neon-lit high,    Five more harvests of words before the well runs dry.    Enough time to write a hundred more wrongs in rhyme,    Let the steel guitars weep one last sweet goodbye.    The clock’s tickin’ loud, but I ain’t through just yet –    Got five good years left in me, and a tank full of regret.     Verse 2    The young guns all holler ‘bout streams and TikTok fame,    While I trade setlists for aspirin and knees that complain.    But hand me that Martin and a half-poured Jack,    I’ll turn your arena to a backroad honky-tonk shack.     Chorus    Five good years to burn up these stage lights,    Five more midnights makin’ love to the mic.    Enough miles to wear out another highway or three,    Let the critics all whisper “that old fool’s still free”.    The calendar’s ruthless, but I’ll spit in its eye –    Got five good years left in me before the last sunset flies.     Bridge   They say Cash found redemption wearin’ eternal black,    Haggard sang ghosts while the world faded back.    My legacy’s scrawled on truck-stop napkin receipts –    Five years to make peace with the songs incomplete.     Verse 3   I’ve serenaded Amarillo’s pale dawn,  Crossed hearts in cheap motels where the AC hums on.  The Chair’s still my throne in these dive-bar nights,  Five more years to wear out these Carrying Your Love With Me lights.  Chorus    Five good years to burn up these stage lights,    Five more midnights makin’ love to the mic.    Enough miles to wear out another highway or three,    Let the critics all whisper “that old fool’s still free”.    The calendar’s ruthless, but I’ll spit in its eye –    Got five good years left in me before the last sunset flies.     Outro   So line up the cities, let the road take its toll,    These hands’ll play till the final vinyl’s been sold.    Five years of dust, diesel, and dim dressing room lights –    Just enough time to get this damn life figured right.