Corinthians (Proctor's)

Jet trails cut across a Winter County sky That's why I recon Sunday is a good day to die There's a beautiful black gale and then he's waiting there for me Pissed off and raising neck hairs and shooting number three Last night they were pulling pints of pesky Pendleton Snuck away from the fire, slept there with the grass and wind I looked up at Heaven, saw how small I really was I wanna build a house and burn it down just because And you're smirking like an asshole With a cheek full of tobacco In the back of some Bronco In a town you've never been Nothing fun happens after you turn twenty-five If I make it out at all, I pray you're right here by my side And if I'm going down then I'm going down true If I've got anyone to thank, then It'll always be you What the hell am I doing? Who the hell am I? How I'll miss the scripture Oh, Sunday's the day to die And granddad sure was punchy But loved Jesus to his core I wanna die today, so I can learn to live for more Nothing fun happens after you turn twenty-five If I make it out at all, I pray you're right here by my side And if I'm going down then I'm going down true If I've got anyone to thank, then It'll only be you If I've got anyone to thank, then It'll always be you Well, jet trails cut across a Winter County sky That's why I recon Sunday is a good day to die (Alright) (Alright) (Alright, boys)