Lyrics Charlie Farley – A Little Too Far

Last of a dying breed
True son from the South
I’m from if you back talk momma
You get busted in the mouth

I got frog eyes in the pickle jar
The whiskey still still smokes like old cars
I got a half a pack of cancer sticks left
And I just tossed down a thirty pack of regrets
Yeah we shooting polecats
And catching channel cats
We like a throwback
Like an old Johnny Cash track
So you can get a map, buy a magnifying glass
Look till ya eyes hurt
But you won’t find where we’re at, ’cause

We’re getting dirty down an old dirt road
No city limits in sight
Yeah go ahead and get a little sideways
Giving up tonight
Don’t care too much for the drama
You can leave that shit at home
Round here we know how to throw it down
So let me tell you where I’m from
I’m from the

Last of a dying breed
True son from the South

I still bowfish and go frog gigging
The viddles on my plate are all God-given
I roll my own smoke and mind my own business
Couple tokes of the green got me seeing night vision
I’m from the backside of the boondocks
Where the honeybees swarm in the treetops
Making what I need, and it’s free, no cost
To get another honey ‘shine batch brewed up, uh
Momma raised me in the church, but I quit going
Daddy’s rebel blood’s in me, and it’s still flowing
And it will till I’m
?
?
simmer-, simmering down
So, so put the Crown on the rocks and the beer in the chest
I’ve been called a mess but I know that I’m blessed
Because out here is where my head rests
You gotta holler to find me ’cause Verizon can’t hear me yet, yet

Last of a dying breed (dying breed)
True son from the South (from the South)
I’m from if you back talk momma (back talk momma)
You get busted in the mouth (in the mouth)
I’m from that rolling bubble (rolling bubble)
In a clear glass jar (a clear glass jar)
Way back in the Mason-Dixon sign (Mason-Dixon sign)
Everything is a little too far yeah