song profile

v1
I swear it wasn't my fault
must have been the bottle of single-malt
and what's a poor country boy to do
with a car full of honeys and a full moon?
a true victim of circumstance
they were wearing tank tops man I had no chance
like to tell you 'bout where I've been
but don't tell mama 'bout the mess I'm in

v2
Dark night, brown dodge
hit 5th gear by the old Elk's Lodge
it was gettin hard to stear
with a hand on my lap and a whisper in my ear
there goes a mailbox
just ran out of blacktop
almost took out an old grain bin
but don't tell mama 'bout the mess I'm in

(chorus 1)
Guess we took it just a little too far
sippin' whiskey from an old glass jar
and gettin' crazy way out in the sticks
it don't matter how old you are man we all got to get our kicks

v3
got to the lake, took off my boots
hit the water in my birthday suit
I was in good company 
with all our clothes still hanging from a tree
all at once the sky turned red
there was two police cars and farmer Ted
we ran off with our tails in the wind
but don't tell mama 'bout the mess I'm in

(chorus 2)
Guess we took it just a little too far
sippin' whiskey from an old glass jar
but you know some things just don't turn out like you plan
and now we're all buck-naked runnin' from the man.