THE BAD OLD BOYS FROM THE GOOD OLD DAYS BY STEVE TRIPP AND IAN MORTIMOR

The Bad Old Boys From the Good Old Days

Now I can be a good man, oh! and I can, be a bad man.

I can be anyman, anyman that you want me to be.

There are two sides to every story, the pain and the glory.

Success and failure go, hand in hand, walking along, beside me.

They're the bad old boys, from the good old days.

Lock up your daughters, it's time to play.

They make you throw down your tools, and pick up your guitars.

They howl at the moon and they sing to the stars.

Cowboy hats and blue jeans, snakeskin boots and limousines.

Hair brained schemes in the middle age teens.

They're a flock of wild geese just chasing their dreams.

Out along the open highway, in all of your towns a bi-ways.

They come and go with the rodeo show

they love you and leave you and, then they go.

They're the Bad old Boys, from the good old days ...

Sitting in a country bar, they sing for their supper with old guitars.

T chest bass is rumbling, bring on the drinks the boys are grumbling.

That's the life for me, sing it in three part harmony.

Those good old favourite songs, just keep on coming out all night long.

They're the Bad old Boys, from the good old days ...

Now I can be a good man, oh! and I can be a bad man.

I can be anyman, anyman that you want me to be.

There are two sides to every story, the pain and the glory.

Success and failure go, hand in hand, walking along beside me.

They're the bad old boys, from the good old days …

They howl at the moon and sing to the stars.

They love good women and old guitars.

They howl at the moon and sing to the stars.

They love good women and fine guitars.

Musical contribution courtesy of Ian Mortimor.