He was spinnin' wheels, makin' dealsWild-eyed in his 20sWith nothin' in the way of work he was ever fit to doIt was for the birds, he worked with wordsThe thing is, words work funnyYou weld 'em right, you know they're liable to affect the way you moveFrontin' him, a country bandA buncha rockin' barkin' deadbeats, manHe played a gig with us one nightWhen he was cuttin' teethHustle high, hustle lowHearken out that band windowThe price of gas is getting lowIn the pocket of the seatOf his pants, he has had tightenin' 'round his bodyLivin' off tavern's fare, drowning in the greaseFrontin' him, a country bandRoaddoggin' in a stripped-out vanBummin' powder in the bar lightWhen they were cuttin' teethYou can yell, you can croonYou can reach the fire code of any roomWith a catchy song or two, if they're sang in keyThere's room for error if the band is thereIn a way, it's 'bout like baseballHe swings a bat left-handedHe's gonna walk at leastFrontin' him, a country bandA buncha West Virginia deadbeats, manHe split the door with us one nightWhen he was cuttin' teethHe played a gig with us one nightWhen he was cuttin' teeth
