In a cold wyoming motel room I was sitting on the edge of the bed
One hand held the bottle of jack And the other had a gun to my head
And I thought I might get famous Just after I die
And my ex-wife would get all money And that one thought kept me alive
I understand why you drank Hank
I know why the poets cry
I know why your heart sank
And I know why your spirit still flies
And I just to say thanks Hank
Every time that my soul takes flight in a song
You gotta write it like you feel it
I feel like singing along
In some south Austin music store A kid buys a guitar
He only knows one thing for sure He's gonna be a star
And you wanna scream kid don't do it Ya can't stop it once it starts
But something old inside your soul says God bless your precious heart
He's gonna learn why you drank Hank
He's gonna know why the poets cry
He's gonna know why your heart sank
Gonna know why your spirt still flys
And someday he's gonna say thanks hank
Every time that his soul takes flight in a song
You gotta write it like you feel it
I feel like singing along
Well as sure as I'm here I know somewhere in a motel room In his underwear
Some sorry pickers trying to Figure where it all went wrong
He's saying poor old lonesome miserable me This ain't the way it's supposed to be
Hey wait a minute I think I wrote a country song
I understand why you drank Hank
I know why the poets cry
I know why your heart sank
And I know why your spirit still flies
You gotta write it like you feel it
I feel like singing along
And I just to say thanks Hank
Every time that my soul takes flight in a song
You gotta write it like you feel it
I feel like singing along