Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins & Blake Shelton
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
Trace Adkins
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Trace Adkins
She was a hopeless romantic with a dirty mouth
But how I loved the way her tongue would curl her words so south
And she loved tracing the faded wings
On the hood of that old jet-black, Pontiac Firebird
She had a couple years on me, didn't know that I was only eighteen and green
Never tasted anything she's about to pour on me
She leaned in with that bottle, put it to her lips, took a sip
And dripped out these words
Honey child
I'm gonna love you old school, rock and roll style
I'm gonna lay this kiss here on ya whiskey wild
And make it taste just like honеy, child
Sometimes her whispеr fades in low
When that summer one-hit-wonder finds its way into my FM radio
Still comes in clear, buzzin' in my ears, after all these years
Such a sweet, sweet sound
Honey child
I'm gonna love you old school, rock and roll style
I'm gonna lay this kiss here on ya whiskey wild
And make it taste like honey, child
I couldn't keep my hands off of her
Still hangin' on to every single word
Honey child
I'm gonna love you old school, rock and roll style
I'm gonna lay this kiss here on ya whiskey wild
Honey child
I'm gonna love you old school, rock and roll style
I'm gonna lay this kiss here on ya whiskey wild
And make it taste like honey, child
I'm gonna lay this kiss here on ya whiskey wild
And make it taste like honey, child