Ice cold Whiskey

Summer was the season
When he took the ride
Women were the reason
Whiskey was the slide

Living for the action
Till it took him down
Crawled into his bottle
And let us watch him drown

Sometimes in the evening
Before the moon goes down
Before the dark is leaving
I see him, hanging round

So I watch the shadows
And I stop and think
Until he wade into the shallows
And get himself another drink

There are certain things we can't explain
We all have our attraction
And then that boy became insane
Whiskey made his life; a crime of passion

He was a loaded man going down
Always out there screaming at the moon
And every night he'd load another round
Until he finished in a tomb