Whiskey Jack

by Stefan Prigmore

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1.
Trackstar 03:55
I seen ya yesterday with that girl I used to know, The one with the holes in her arms. Her body’s black blue from a thousand needles I guess that’s just part of her charm. You’re lookin like I used to, feelin good and free Thinkin about the ass you’re gonna get. But boy don’t bide your time, cuz you’re never gonna git it, If you ain’t got it yet. She was a valedictorian With a daddy’s girl trust fund, Prettiest little thing I ever met. She ran across that needle, Things just got evil. It’ll get you, if it ain’t got you yet. She thought she was a rock star, turned into a track star Where do you think she got that dam hat? Stop Six across the front, in old English letters, It don’t get much more rock star than that. You’re lookin like I used to, feelin good and free Thinkin about the ass you’re gonna get. But boy don’t bide your time, cuz you’re never gonna git it, If you ain’t got it yet.
2.
How am I supposed to change, when I’m locked in here all day? They just gave me a number, swapped it for my name. You say I’m lucky I got tv, and a warm place to sleep, But to save my ass I know some folks the devil don’t wanna meet. Nobody cares at all, if I live or die, The only one who did went and found another guy. When they let me out of here, I don’t know what I’ll do, Cuz folks like me ain’t the same as folks like you. Now my wife she won’t come see me, says there ain’t no joy If I always end up cryin when she tells me about my boy. When I go to sleep tonight, I’ll have that same dam dream, We’re all under a pecan tree with my son upon my knee. Prison life’ll change ya, it’s a livin’ hell, There’s cholos in the yard, and a cholo in my cell. The brotherhood, they hate me, cuz I got Choctaw blood, So I carry something up my sleeve, they’ll meet Jesus if they come.
3.
When you’re not lookin at me through the bottom of a bottle I’m gonna try everything I can to get you to want me, And need me, and tell me that you love me. You get that whiskey loosenin up your tongue, And hitchin up your skirts, girl You get that whiskey loosenin up your tongue. I’ll be real good tonight, but I’ll be bad tomorrow When you’re not lookin at me through the bottom of a bottle. You’re gonna try everything you can to lose me, Now leave me, and tell me that you hate me. You get that whiskey loosenin up your tongue, And hitchin up your skirts, girl You get that whiskey loosenin up your tongue. No matter how hard we try, you make me wanna die Every morning when we wake up. I’m trying to get it back to where we’ve begun, When in the end, it’s all messed up.
4.
I can’t stay in this house no more at all, I’ll be brilliant tonight, but I’ll be stupid tomorrow There’s stains on the ceilin and holes in the wall. The garden’s grown over, all the chickens are gone. The good word’s been taken, and the sex is all wrong. I may look crazy, but I know what I’m doin. You always called me lazy, but now I’m seein through. Curse me for drinkin, and you curse me when I’m sober. You were cursin when it started, you’re cursin now it’s over. Cursin so long, I can’t stand no more, I’m grabbin a shovel and pullin up the floor. I may look crazy, but I know what I’m doin. You always called me lazy, but now I’m seein through. Now it’s all over, there’s a shovel in my hands, So tired from the diggin that I can hardly stand. This house is so quiet, you can’t hear a sound, Just the creakin of the floorboards and a life burnin down. I may look crazy, but I know what I’m doin. You always called me lazy, but now I’m seein through.
5.
I don’t understand the things I say and do, Heaven knows I’d take em back. If I could just get my head on straight, Get this train back on it’s tracks. I’m diggin myself a hole, One foot’s already in. I got nothin left to lose, Just can’t seem to win. Lord help me win this fight, I just don’t know how to get right. Lord help me win this fight, I just don’t know how, don’t know how to get right. The cards are stacked against me, That’s always been true. Somehow I’ve always persevered, I always made it through. Seven shots of whiskey And a bad case of the blues Have got me questionin the way, The light, and the truth. My prayers were met with silence, My tears dried on their own. Now I’m tired, and Lord, I’m weak. Will you end this losin streak?
6.
I can’t twist your words around, to make it all make sense. I can’t twist my brain around all your silly shit. No one knows me better than these voices in my head, Tellin me that all these things are better left unsaid. When the shit sinks to the bottom, the truth’s gonna float on up To the brim of my filthy, stinkin, dirty liquor cup. Pills and songs and words and girls ain’t gonna fill this gap. I’ve been here and I can read sign, and I think I smell a rat. He smells like someone you once knew way back when you got high. Now you’re fadin away and noddin out, I think that I know why. Me, I just do whiskey now, you’re back to bangin boy, Momma’s favorite scary time and Daddy’s secret joy. I know you’re gonna fall for him, while I’m out getting drunk, But I’ll whip his ass anytime, sorry junky punk.
7.
There’s twelve pounds in the trunk, I’m runnin open wide Gotta get back to Fort Worth by tonight There’s a man there off of Riverside, I know he’ll set me right C’mon t-bird, lemme see ya fly. I left Brownsville early this morning, like a freight train rollin on I had to beat that mornin light. Jose always asks a fair price, and I know he done me right A bottle of Cuervo, and I was gone. Now there’s a trooper right behind me, I’m sure his friends are close behind. I guess Jose’s ex-wife tipped em off. I don’t see nowhere to run to, so I pull off on the right, And hear that megaphone sayin “Boy shut it off” So I check my piece and I step out, he’s yelling “Get on the ground!” But I ain’t goin back to jail I see his friends behind him, and I see em steppin out, But I ain’t goin back to jail If you wanna put those cuffs on me, you’re gonna have to shoot me down, Cuz I ain’t goin back to jail. There’s a girl waitin on me, when I get back to town, And I ain’t goin back to jail. So I drew up on the first one, popped him square in the chest, Ran around to the front of my ride. There’s bullets whizzing round me, but they ain’t got me yet, Then I feel somethin kick me in the side. Now I feel myself slippin away, as I lay there bleedin I hear that trooper start to laugh. I guess he’s got the right, but at least I’m dyin in freedom. One more Texas breath, and then I’ll pass.
8.
I seen ya yesterday with that girl I used to know, The one with the holes in her arms. Her body’s black blue from a thousand needles I guess that’s just part of her charm. You’re lookin like I used to, feelin good and free Thinkin about the ass you’re gonna get. But boy don’t bide your time, cuz you’re never gonna git it, If you ain’t got it yet. She was a valedictorian With a daddy’s girl trust fund, Prettiest little thing I ever met. She ran across that needle, Things just got evil. It’ll get you, if it ain’t got you yet. She thought she was a rock star, turned into a track star Where do you think she got that dam hat? Stop Six across the front, in old English letters, It don’t get much more rock star than that. You’re lookin like I used to, feelin good and free Thinkin about the ass you’re gonna get. But boy don’t bide your time, cuz you’re never gonna git it, If you ain’t got it yet.

about

Once upon a time, I had a rock outfit and we called ourselves Whiskey Jack. We played a lot of fun shows with some other great southern-rock/alt-country bands, and made some good recordings which were never really released beyond a few demo cd's. I think they're awesome songs and dam good rock music, and hope you like em too.
-Stefan

credits

released September 3, 2021

All songs written by Stefan Prigmore, ©2007 and ©2009,
except “Can’t Get Right” written by Stefan Prigmore and Michelle Guidry
Whiskey Jack is
Stefan Prigmore- guitar, vocals
Jimmy Owen-guitar, vocals
Steve Jordan-bass
Oscar Villareal-drums

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Stefan Prigmore Fort Worth, Texas

Stefan has been creating and performing music since his teenage years, following his father into the business in the same way he learned from his father in the woods and the river. Stefan's sound is a rustic and approachable blend of Americana, folk, and roots. Audiences comment that his lyrics are stark and sincere, and his voice is dynamic and distinctive. ... more

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