Corey Smith
I’ll Get You Home
Cocaine on your shirtsleeve, whiskey in your eyes
You stumble in the green room with a pocket full of lies
No money for a cab, too messed up to drive
You came here for the party, didn’t watch the show
You never gave a damn 'til I was on the radio
Now you’re sucking down my beer, gobbling up my finger-foods
Yeah, you’re spoiling my good mood
But I’ll get you home. I’ll get you home
Then you’re on your own. You’re on your own
You slobber and you slur. Sloppy drunk, you’re sad as hell
If you weren’t kin to me they’d have thrown your ass in jail
And where’s your gratitude? Man, you got a lot of nerve
Pissing off the bouncers, shooting off your mouth
Showing off your tattoos, creeping the ladies out
And pulling out my name like an ID at the door
You’re not welcome anymore
But I’ll get you home. I’ll get you home
Then you’re on your own. You’re on your own
Maybe I’m too mean. Maybe I’m too nice
Maybe I should take a little of my own advice
And leave your ass in the cold, block your number on my phone
But I still see a friend when I look you in the eyes
So I paid for your bar tab and I had ‘em call a ride
Oh, I hate to see you hurting. Man, I've always wished you well
Yeah, I know you’ve been through hell
So I’ll get you home. I’ll get you home
Then you’re on your own. You’re on your own