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Buckshot (2017)
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- You're call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system. Happy birthday to you Happy birthday to you Happy birthday dear Charlie - Darlene, dammit, you're moving the phone too far away. He can't even hear me. Happy birthday There you go son, hope you have a good birthday. Real sorry I couldn't be there for it, but I'm gonna make that big six. Me and Crystal listened to that song you emailed. Holy shit kid, it blew us away. I'd ease up on that twang though. You sound a little too much like your old man. And them are some big shoes to fill, you know what I mean. Hey son, I know you want to come out and visit, but you can't believe this. My band's new schedule just came out and talking about a tour. and the next one I promise will be worth it. We'll get to it. Honey tonight Is wheels up, drop a tailgate on your pickup truck Slide on over next to me I'll show you off Fill them all with jealousy Kicking down the main street Break it down Rock this quiet little country town Oh I want to keep cruising all night long If they country DJ plays our song Honey tonight - Excuse me, can I put this up on your bulletin board? It's for a showcase for Lucky Owens. Thanks so much. Oh. - Whoa. - I'm sorry. Can I get a towel? Thank you. Gosh. - It's okay, a little beer cologne never hurt anybody. I'm Charlie Stillman. - June. Tell Lucky I'm ready for his showcase. I gotta get that record contract. I ain't getting no younger. - And you ain't gettin' sober either. Hey. - Whoa, whoa, hey dude, back off man. All right, show this lady some respect. - Can you put his beer on my tab? Thanks. - You a singer? - God no, I work for Lucky Owens. Where are you from? - Jersey. - Figures. - What's that mean? - A bro country song like that on that stage, big mistake. - Hey, you hungry? You want to get some pie with me? - I don't think so. - What? Are you serious? Come on, who passes up blueberry pie? - How about you look me up when you find yourself cause whatever this is, I don't want no part of it. Lost my license So I don't drive Yeah, I got pulled over for a DUI My girl done left Took my dog away Got some debts that I cannot pay The only thing I do right Is doing wrong My life is a country song - You've known about this for months. Why wouldn't he have mentioned it before? Well the show's in less than a week. Okay, I'll let Lucky know Buckshot's request. I told you I wasn't interested. - I'm just here to rap with the man about the showcase. - You get that Buckshot shit worked out? - He won't fly, Lucky. He wants an RV and a driver to chauffeur him from Seattle to here. - Motherfucker, if he doesn't show, I loose my advance. - Sir, I'm Carl Stillman's son. - Goddamnit, just do it, get us a driver. And send that kid to my office. - You're Carl Stillman's kid. - Yeah. I thought since you and my pops were tight, I'd stop by and introduce myself. - Pretty lady, right? Spent the salad days with this lovely creature. - Since my old man rocked this place, I thought you might hook me up with a spot in your showcase? - Your old man only cared about two things. Drinking and pussy. Neither of them made him a good country singer. And he loved fucking other people's wives, including mine. Here's some parting advice, find yourself a new last name. - Good luck you hick hop poser. - I thought you'd be halfway back to Jersey by now. - Okay. Let's start over. I'm Charlie Stillman. I'm a country music fan. - You're part of the problem. Nashville doesn't need anymore songs about beer, buds, or girls in short shorts. That ain't country, bro, and neither are you. - Your phone call made it sound like this Buckshot dude's kind of a jerk. - Have you ever heard of the song, "Darling Eyes"? I learned true love Is too much to bear Fooled my poor heart into dying His song writing's what put him on the map, but he took it for granted. People quit booking him cause he'd be too drunk to play, and that's if he even showed up. - Good as new. - Well thank you Charlie. You seem like a nice guy, and your voice ain't half bad. - Can you get me into that showcase? - I can't help you there. - Can I use the restroom, like clean up? - Lucky is still here. - It's a lot of driving, but easy money. - Who's the headliner? - Buckshot Thomas. - Hell no. - Wait, what's he say? - Shh. - Come on, Mike, sleep on it. - I wouldn't drive that guy to jail. - Is that the driver? - Give it a second thought. - Okay, second thought, nope. - Wait, wait, wait. - Transportation is supposed to be your goddamned job. Roscoe gave me a list of names. Find me any asshole that can drive an RV. - I'm gonna help you. I can do this. - Here's the job. You've got five days to get that son of a bitch from Seattle to Nashville. You want to get paid, you make that goddamned deadline. - I don't care about the money. I'll do it for a spot on the showcase. - You've got some balls. Remember, that motherfucker is not operating on all cylinders. He makes it on time, you play the showcase. - Lucky's gonna want you to call me and check in every morning. And the other number is my cell. - What's your favorite color? - I'm gonna have you land in Seattle first thing tomorrow morning. - Maroon? - Charlie, stop with the dating questions. - Red. Oh, orange. All right-- - Yellow, okay. - Yellow. I'm gonna bring you back something cool. - Charlie, no. Don't get me any gifts, please. - It's a thank you for scoring me the job, and the showcase. - Showcase? - Yep. It's my payment. Boy, if you have trouble You ain't been in for - Can I help you? - I'm looking for Buckshot Thomas. - You the guy paying his bar tab? The son of a bitch owes me 400 bucks. - No, man, he's got the wrong guy. Oh, okay, let's all chill out here. - Howdy fellas. Rack 'em up. Maybe I'll win some money back. - You said he'd have the money. - Who? - Your little fella here. - Put it on my tab, I think he's good for it. - I'm your driver, Charlie Stillman. - I think I'm gonna need a minute here with my associate, por favor. - Kid, you ever been in a knife fight? Let me tell you what happens. Son of a bitch, cause you never, ever forget the cash. Now get out there and get that RV pointed south. I'll be out in a minute, all right. - Now. Go get that money out of the glove box. Get back here, and pay these boys like your supposed to. Go, go, go, go, go. Go, go, go, go, go. Go. Stop. Stop. God. - What the hell was that all about man? - Just, take a left right up there. Son of a bitch. Wait here. I'll be right back. - It stops now. You've been told before not to come. You know what asshole, I've had it with you. You come here all the time. - Oh shit. - Get out. - We got any trash bags? Trash bags? Kid, don't ever get married. Country living That's all we know You catch a song on an old dirt road You can call everybody you know Yes sir, let's rock and roll Take a left on old Mill Road Three or four miles that's all - The Trailer Hitch Boys, man. - Pull over, I gotta piss. - There's a restroom back there. - I ain't gonna piss in that midget bathroom. Pull over. It ain't that far Hear the same stories About ten times How we busted all those bottles on that one stop sign About how we got stuck all night Me and Buckles - Thought you had to piss. - This here is Poncho. - Jesus. - Goddammit. - I didn't know you weren't a THB fan. - Yeah, well this here is my trip and we're gonna do it my way. I got some extra stops to make down the road. - As long as we get to Nashville, we can do whatever floats your boat, pops. - And, if you ever call me that again, you're gonna wind up like your damn telephone. Where the hell you from, boy? - Jersey, why? - Cause only some goddamned Yankee would wear pansy ass clothes like this. Oh shit. - Yeah, started playing at 13. - Son of a bitch stuck me with a goddamned wannabe. - A wannabe wouldn't have a spot lined up in Lucky's showcase. - Well hold on. You want to be a country singer? - My dad was a country singer. - The hell is this? Are these some kind of songs or some Yankee poetry? - I'm gonna rewrite one of those songs, make it my own. - Listen here shit for brains, once you've been divorced three times, locked up in Alabama and banged a pair of bowl-legged sisters in the bathroom of the Grand Ole Opry, then maybe, just maybe you can write a country song. I don't know. Well see, fucking Lucky. - Gramps, I got us adjoining rooms. So hard To sit and drink alone But it's easy After two or three are gone I thought you high-tailed it back to Washington. It's cool. Can I get a beer? - Oh sure thing. - Thank you. I'm a big fan of your song, man. Darling Eyes. - Are you Buckshot Thomas? Well holy shit mister, I love that song you did with Conway Twitty. Played it at my third wedding. - I appreciate that little lady. Hey, what's your handle? - Call me Dixie. - Damn, Dixie. Them eyes of yours are mesmerizing. - Oh I bet you say that to all the girls. that says you can't name another one of my songs. - Just cause I can't name one doesn't mean I'm not a fan. You want to talk about 90s country, I'll talk about 90s country all day and night, man. - Who'd want to talk about that dog shit. - Well this is for your other greatest hit. Fiddlin' with my Heart. - Oh yeah. - Yo, Dixie, who's this Gus guy? - Oh well, now Gus here is part of our wall of fame for regulars who passed on. We saved their favorite drink and put their name on it. We put them in front of their favorite bar stool on their birthday. Happy birthday, Gus. - I was thinking we pull out early tomorrow. Around eight? - Dixie, another round for me and Gus. - Sure thing. Keep the bottle Buckshot. But it's easy After two or three are gone - Where it'd all go wrong, Gus bet you had a couple marriages that went sour. Lost all your money. - I got to close her on up. I think you should take him on home. - I'm gonna make that stop. Then I'm gonna do that damn concert. Then, the grand finale. - Gotta put Gus to bed now. Take good care. - Hey what are you doing? Put that back. - No, Gus is going with us. He deserves better than rotting away in some bar. Oh whoa. I gotta make my stop. My stop. Then I got, I got, I got to play that damn concert. - Just lay down, all right. - Then... eh, then... eh One more thing. Honky Tonk Overdrive My honky tonk Honky tonk overdrive Cruising down the... - Shit. Yo Buckshot, let's get moving. Shit. Shit. - Hello? - June, it's Charlie. - I texted you yesterday. Why haven't you-- - You know who Conway Twitty is? - Uh, Charlie, I really need to know where you guys are. Lucky is freaking out. He's like about to have an aneurism. - Uh huh. - Oh, hold on. Someone's on the other line. - It's actually me. - Favorite artist like Twitty? - Charlie Pride is comparable. Why you on two phones? Are you guys okay? How is it going with Buckshot? - Got him wrapped around my little finger. Shit, hold on. Lucky's calling me right now. Hey Lucky, I got Charlie on the other line. I'm gonna put him through to you, okay. - Where the fuck are you? - Hey man. Been driving for four hours already. - Einstein, I said where the fuck are you? - Everything is totally under control here man. - How can you be so stupid. You got a fucking smart phone. Use the GPS and answer me. Are you there? - Hello? - Hey jerk! He got no kin Just a tin can that's gone Traveling His name was Gus He wasn't like the rest of us - What do you need kid? - Hey man, those lyrics are from last night, huh? - Yeah well, some old boys they keep journals, - Every day? - I'm a song writer. That's what I'm supposed to do. - Hey man, I found this song last night. It reminds me of Charlie Pride. Here we go Gus. Love, it will come And it will go I thought of this when she left out that door I don't care if I loose a few bucks But get your damn hands Off my pickup trucks - Boy, you're about as country as Howdy Doody. - Who? - Exactly. What the hell Charlie Pride song is that supposed to sound like? - Man. That jaunty one, the jaunty one. - Whoa. What does Charlie Pride look like? - He's that big fat guy, dude. - No. - Yeah, man, with the mullet. - No. - The mullet and the belt buckle. - We all got damn belt buckles. - And freckles. - No. No. Wrong, wrong. He's a black fella. There ain't no hope for you, boy. Where in the hell is Poncho? - You'd be lying in some ditch with your ass kicked if I didn't drag your sorry sack back here last night. - I haven't got time for your wannabe bullshit. - Man that showcase isn't bullshit, all right. It's the only way I'm gonna get people to see me. - This ain't country. You ain't country. Now where's my goddamned gun? - That drawer. You were talking crazy last night. - You mind you own damn business. Well all the trials and heartaches Come from the Gold Fools state While out in this world Stumbling through life - Yo. Watch it. - Jersey, huh? Them people up there bleed Springsteen. How come you didn't wind up singing "Born in the USA"? - You're a weirdo, weren't you? A loner. Weird ass country kid. - Hey I got a question for you. - Shoot, partner. - Where'd those "Darling Eyes" lyrics come from? - You know, kid, I've bagged more women than I ever sang about. Kicked more ass than a Tijuana titty club bouncer, and hell, there ain't nobody in this damn world that can write a country song better than me. - No, I'm being serious. Why'd you write "Darling Eyes"? You listening? - The hell with this. I'm leaving. - Are you nuts man? You're gonna get yourself killed. - Kid. Just drive this goddamned thing and leave me the hell alone, will ya? Turn to suicide It ain't nothing new for me to see The prophet turned and said to me It's just a day In an American life It's just a day In an American life Hey, where the hell are we? - Some truck stop in Wyoming. - Hot damn, truck stops are like Amsterdam. They got drugs and hookers and greasy food. - Hey man, let's make this stop quick, all right. I just need some caffeine. If we make Nebraska tonight, we'll be back on schedule. - Wait, wait. Caffeine's for pussies kid. What you need is some trucker speed. I think I can get us some right over there. - No, man. That stuff's bad news. I'll be right back. - I might stretch my legs. - Hey, don't go far. What the fuck? - Hey. - Oh. - I've been doing some recon. Dealer's room has got a blue bandana hanging on it. - No, man. Come on. - I'm in charge now. Yeah, come on. Let's go kid. Got my back, kid. - Man, I've been in sketchier places than this. - This is no mobster pizza joint. We got no clue what's behind that door now. Keep your ears peeled and your eyes open. Shit, you know what I mean. Go on in. - What, what you want. - That depends on what you got there, cutie pie. - Check this shit out. - Hey screw all this, all right, let's bounce. - You boys five oh? - Look man, all we want is two blues and one red. - All right. If you ain't no cop, then you got to do a Tijuana twister. - Never have been a fan of Mexican drugs, but the kid here will do it. - Oh hell no man. - Then get the fuck out of here. - Hold on. How about if I just fill you full of lead? - Yo, chill out, all right. I'll do it. All right, now give us the stuff. - You got to do the other line. - Whoa, whoa, whoa. Step off, we had a deal, all right. Wo shi shuo Tijuana twister? Or I'll fill you both full of lead. - The woman's got a point there kid and a shotgun. Go on. Get up there. Oh hey, hey, my uncle showed me one trick, you know. Never back down from a threat. Always call their bluff. Nine out of 10 times, you come out on top, but I don't know, a Chinese with a shotgun, hell. - Hey man, what do you think those hillbillies gave me though dude? - Hell kid, I don't know. Just pretend like you're on tour. - Hey, hey no more drugs on this tour though, okay. - Well we got to do what we got here. - No, give me those. - No, they're mine. - My stomach's wrecked, man. - Well we ain't ate in hours. - Fucking cocaine, dude. - Here are your burgers. - Thank you. Oh man. That ass is pure Crystal Gale. No, no, no, wait. Tammy Wynette, - My tongue is freaking numb, man. I'm not hungry. - You gotta eat. - I gotta piss. - Man. You in here boy? Where are you? Hey. Whoa, cowboy. Somebody got a little bit sideways. Come on, there we go. Come on, that's it. I got ya. Oh man. Come on kid. Let's go. There we go. - I'm in love. No. Not with you, you jackass. She's like a Georgia peach. Ripe Georgia peach. - Uh huh, peach. - We gotta get to Nashville so I can see June. You gotta get us to Nashville. - Yeah, yeah. You just rest kid. I'll get us to our next stop, don't worry. - Can you give me a bubble bath? Gun by my side Always ready for a fight Faced off with that old boy Got him in my sights - Hey kid. This place changed it all for me. Told my old man I wanted to be a singer right in this here room. Son of a bitch kicked my ass good. Turned out the be the best day of my life. Cause from then on, I knew I'd never be my old man. This here was my bedroom. I lined all these walls with Waylon Jennings posters and albums. That old boy, his voice, his sound, never heard anything like it. Record executives hated the Waylon's sound. Though, he just walked the hell away from Nashville, created his own damn style. - Hey where are we? - Luck, Texas. - Yo, wait, did you say Texas? - Yep. - You're screwing with me man. - Nope. - All right, fine. Your last stop, we got it done. Let's get back on the road, make up some time. - This ain't my last stop. I got one more to go. - Yeah, so do I man, playing that showcase in Nashville. - Yeah I watch you kid. All I can think about is wasted talent. Always chasing the next fad. What the hell good that do your old man, huh? - Lecture time over? - You don't get it do you boy? Take the damn keys. Go play your fucking showcase. - It doesn't work like that man. I gotta get you to the concert in time if I want to play Lucky's showcase. - Like I said before, you go on stage with this act, I'll guarantee you're gonna be carbon copy of a dozen other guys just like you. You know, they sound like you. - I'm not stupid, man. I know my dad's songs need work. Right now it's all I got. - There's a way to do this thing son. Hell, I can show you. Look, you help me to my last stop, I'll help you try to find your true country performance. - Well if we stick around here, we're not gonna make that showcase or concert. - Just call Lucky, tell him you broke down. Make up some shit. He'll push a soundcheck. Always did. Come on kid. Buy us some extra time. You're in good hands son. - Who's that? - Hey there Nickel. Got a little friend here wants to say hello. - Let me have it. Neglected. Broke. Drinks too much. That's impossible. I didn't think they stacked shit that high. - Settle down you old lanky cranky hell raiser, you. - Oh, Buckshot Thomas, you salty son of a bitch. Oh goddamn. You turned into an old cuss. Who's your friend? - Well, I'd kind of like you to figure that out. - Yeah. Oh this feels like some made by some goddamned Yankee. Is this some roadie's guitar? He's green. Very green. He plays with a lot of grit. Problem is, it's got two different sounds. Sooner or later, one of them's got to win out. What's your name boy? - I'm Charlie. I'm a singer songwriter like Buckshot. - Yeah, is that so? Hey, you got some determined lines there. Makes sense you held up with this old outlaw. - Nickel, do they still sell liquor in this county? - Dolly Parton still sleep on her back? - Hey kid, go down there and get us some go juice. - Yo man, we still got training to do. - Place is two doors up on the left. - Hustle up now. Don't dilly dally. - What the hell brings you to town? - Well, on the way to my farewell concert down there in Nashville. - Oh, one last concert. Then what? - Nickel, did you ever wonder if this was just it? - This is it for me. All these guitars live on long after I'm gone. Like your songs. - Yeah well, I'm just trying to make peace with all this shit I did. - Hey, June. - Charlie, you gotta call in on time. Lucky's threatening to send out another driver to replace you. - It's Buckshot, he went crazy. - Well what happened? - He forced some drugs on me and then I must have passed out cause then he hijacked the RV and took us to Luck, Texas. June? June, you there? - That's west Texas. You gotta get back on the road, you're gonna miss the show. - Can you maybe like say we're in Nebraska or something? I swear when I see you again, I'll make it up to you. - I'm trusting you Charlie, don't screw this up. - I owe you bigs. I gotta go. - Well, you should have everything you need. - You know, after all this is done Nickel, I'd like to leave you my guitar. - What do I need it for? - Safe keeping. - What's going on with you? - Here's the go juice you ordered. - We gotta mosey along here. - Y'all just got here. - We'll swing on back after we're done with everything. Grab that suitcase kid. - You gonna stop by Cottonwood? - Well boy, this is where it all started. Welcome to Luck, Texas, VFW. - Man, they just leave this unlocked? - Hold on. I gotta show you the best part. - Man we came all this way for free booze? - Yeah, I am gonna have a drink while you get yourself ready. - I am ready. - Now put that thing down. Pick that up. Go on back here and get yourself prepared. What the hell's taking so long? - This is ridiculous. - Part of training. Get on out here. Yeehaw. Whew. Now, we can get started. Grab that guitar. Let me see that book. Let me see that notebook. All right, first lesson, I should of done that a long time ago. Charlie, I became a song writer because I like telling my stories. Some of them made up, some of them real. All that matters is that I know where they came from. It's that conviction that people connect with. - Yeah man, I don't know where to start though. Like I don't have stories. It's the first time I've been out of Jersey. - You lost your old man, didn't you? Hey, pretty sure some young gal's thrown you for a loop. Write about that stuff. It's got meaning. - Man, man, you're supposed to be teaching me, though. - I should be praying for you. Can you just concentrate on writing something that's got some heart? Why he's drinking so - Hey man, hey Buckshot, I think I got something. - Huh? Baby Whatcha lookin' at Don't mess with a man Wearing a cowboy hat Especially one that's Turned down low You have no idea Why he's drinking so - That's not half bad kid. But, only the lyrics that support the song. The voice has to do the heavy lifting. Hey there momma, hey. Hey momma. My old man forbid for me to practice at home, and I'd just come up here for hours belting out them lyrics and just listening. Now come on, get up here. Give it a try. Go. - Hey there momma. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, just sing the damn song boy. Baby Whatcha looking at - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Partner, partner, let's just, let's try to find the unique part of your voice that way you'll get more confident, sing it as yourself cause you can't be me. Baby Whatcha looking at Don't mess with a man Wearing a cowboy hat Especially one that's Turned down low Turn on that next road up here. - We headed to Cottonwood? - Turn in, pull in right here. When I first started out, I played dives like this for free. Nobody gave a shit who I was or where I came from. All about confidence to sing. Anytime, anywhere. There she is. Finally going home with me where she belongs. - Wait a minute, this is the last stop? - Used to hang over our mail. When my old man traded it for some bar tab. Cheap ass told me it was gonna be mine when he was dead. - Okay. It's name's cottonwood? - Don't point. Gonna mosey on over there, bullshit with them old boys, and grab that bird. You go hide in that bathroom. You'll have to wait a spell cause I'm gonna tell them there's a fire in the back parking lot. We go out, you sneak out the front with the bird. - And you'll have the RV pointed south, you got it man. We had a deal. I could have made it fine - Fellas. - Howdy. - Hey. - Hey. Do you all know that Kenny Rogers wears a wig? - Bullshit. - No, I'm telling you-- - Get out of here. - There used to be this group called the New Christian Mistral, swear to God. Big group. I went back stage cause my buddies in it, and I see Kenny Rogers sitting there. I didn't know it was him but, he's bald as a cucumber. And there's a wig sitting next to him, like a helmet and they put it on his head and whew, Kenny Rogers. He's still fat as hell, but I mean. That's how he became Kenny Rogers. I don't think he'd make it... You guys give me just a minute. I'll be right back. - Hey man, have you seen Buckshot? - I ain't seen anybody since 1968. - Man for all I know, that jackoff might have already hightailed it to Nashville. - Don't feel bad. Buckshot's pulled that bird trick on more than a few ole boys around here. News travels fast in a small town. See this here guitar? Got a lot of strings on it. It only takes one to throw you out of tune. But, just cause there's one out of tune doesn't mean all the others follow suit. You gotta find that one, tune it in. Here, play me one of your songs. - Oh, no man. I really gotta go. - Bullshit, come on. Let me hear one. - Let me know what you think of this verse. You don't know what What was his tell Living alone with his Whiskey and beer You don't know what What might have been hell - Hey man, I really gotta go. - Damn fine lyrics, kid. - Hey man, you got a phone? - It's in there. - Thank you. - Jaybird. - June. - She ain't working here anymore. - Where is she? - Fired is where she's at you dumb motherfucker. You think you can pull some shit over on me. - No, I can explain. June had nothing to do with it. She wasn't-- - I'm getting another driver to bring Buckshot here. You just stay put and shut the fuck up. - Hello? - June, it's Charlie. - What do you want? - I'm so sorry. - You put me in a really bad situation. - No, I can explain. Things got really weird here. - Unless you can get me my job back, I really don't have anything to say. - You could have told me where you were going. - That's my momma's grave. I wasn't always a piece of shit. There are some people I cared for. Grab them there, would you? Get my guitar, will ya? I learned true love was Too much to bear Til coming home She's finally there That's when I stared into Her darling eyes Now I hope your heart Will forgive All the things they say I Did Missing those darling eyes Missing those darling eyes Missing those darling Eyes I love you sweetheart. When she was born, it changed my life. Inspired me to write that song. It took off and so did I. They said there was nothing we could do. My old man. Chicken shit son of a bitch. This is my last stop. Let's head to Nashville. - I'm not your driver anymore man. Lucky fired me. I just came to say goodbye. - That son of a bitch ain't got the right. When I finish with his ass, you're gonna be on that stage. Don't worry. Hey, whoa, kid. I don't think you want to do that. - I'm in charge of Poncho. No more grand finale shit. - That ain't none of your business. - I'm not driving you across country so you can blow your brains out. - What the hell you care? - You're the first person ever fucking call my bluff. I owe you for that. You're not just some miserable old bastard. You cared for people. Why not try again. - Damn kid, that's one of the first sensible things you said in this whole damn trip, you know. Who's gonna miss you When you're gone - Hey pull over right now. - Shit. Whoa, that was a close call kid, huh. I don't know how that bullet missed you, but the real copper's that gravestone to the head. You know, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna surrender Poncho to you. That stuff you said really rang true. - You almost killed me back there. - Yeah, I know, I know. I'm sorry. That bullet's been calling my name for years and you damn near took it for me. - What choice do I have? - Come on kid, let's just go. Go back to Nashville and I'm gonna fix things up for you, right. Okay. Hey you know, I been thinking about going on the straight and narrow. - No more booze? - No more booze. - You driving the rest of the way? - Hell no. Get on up there. Come on. Hey, can we stop and get a pint? No? Half pint? No? Just an old empty bottle It's staring back at me Used to be such Good old friends Til that day back in '63 Met my friend When I was young While I was sitting on my daddy's knee Because of my Dear old friend I'm sitting here In the penitentiary Oh come on join me now Whew! - Check, check, check one, two. One, two. Two. Two. - It's about fucking time. Hey Buck, Nancy Sinatra called. She wants the boots back. Mike, get Buckshot prepped. We gotta get him checked in 30 minutes. Hey. As for your dumb ass, you crossed the wrong motherfucker. - Hey. The only reason I'm here is cause of this kid. You think about screwing him out of that showcase then, all right, we're fucking out of here. Let's go kid. Come on. - You win, cowboy. - Hey you can finished tuning this. Off my stage. Let's sing some songs. - That's for the concert, not your ass. - Hey, you know that girl June that used to work here? - Yeah. Some asshole got her fired. She's working down at Fiddler Junction. It's a shithole. I still think about you All the time - Bring those levels up. Try again. Right there. I just want to make sure I can hear my monitor. Yee haw. Being out on that stage, shit, there ain't nothing like it. Makes me want to go back out on the road. - Hey man, I think I got the last verse of my song. - When is that showcase anyway? - Two weeks. - Really? - I'll be ready. I gotta take care of something, all right. I'll be back before eight. - Reset the stage for the second sound check and let's hustle guys. We're expecting a sellout. - I'm back. - Howdy ma'am. Whoa. Can we talk, just for a second? Hold up, hold up. Wait, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I screwed up. I know that. Yellow. I really didn't intend for you to loose your job. I'm sorry. - It's not your fault. I should have quit that job a long time ago. - I'm done with all the bro country stuff. - I can see that. - Buckshot even helped me write my own song for the showcase. - Wait, you're still doing the showcase? - Buckshot smoothed everything over. We're golden, we're good to go. I thought you'd be stoked for me? - People practice for years before ever stepping up on that stage. You can't expect to just throw it all together in a week. Thank you for the flower, it's beautiful. - Everyone, we have 60 minutes til showtime. - You were great out there. Want one? - Nope. Nope, you hadn't been taking care of this place, Lucky. What do you think about maybe taking me on a brand new tour? - You're serious? - Yeah. I'd start playing them smaller joints, and just work my way up to the bigger venues. - That would be a losing proposition. - You just said tickets sales were up. - Look partner, final concerts always spike ticket sales. Folks figure you're dying soon or something. I'd just focus on your twilight years. - Hey Kyle, swing by the Green Room and see if Buckshot needs anything. Kyle, you copy? I was raised on the Bible But the bottle has absolved me Of it all Last of the dying breed To Live and Breathe American Outlaw Last of the dying breed American Outlaw - Hey everybody, Buckshot Thomas. - Appreciate y'all coming out tonight Hope you enjoy yourselves. You owned that audience tonight. - One foot in the grave is all they saw out there. - That's not true man. You've still got it. - What do you want from me? I mean you got your showcase, so. - I'm not doing it. I need more time man. I'm gonna start over. - Well good luck with that. My stories are written. - You're a songwriter. That's what you're supposed to do. Remember? - You know... When we first met, I thought to myself this kid ain't going far. I ain't gonna waste my time with him. Sure as shit, you proved me wrong. You stood your ground. Changed your ways. Now, you give me just a little bit of hope. Let's go. - You headed back to Washington? - This ain't my last stop. - All right man, my driving days are over. - Ain't nobody invited your ass. You take care. Hey. You keep working on them songs. You never know, this might not be your last stop either. Hey man Whatcha looking at Don't mess with a man Wearing a cowboy hat Especially one that's Turned down low You have no idea Why he's drinking so Could be a woman That done him wrong Could be that old jukebox Playing that sad song Whatever it is it's best to Pay him no mind Now he's not really much of a Telling kind You don't know what his Sad eyes tell Living alone with his Whiskey and beer You don't know what What might have been hell Makes you wonder though Do outlaws shed tears Truth be told there's a Good heart inside But most times it's too hard to Let down his pride Looked in the mirror What did he see A broken old man Struggling to be free He shed a tear and I I don't know why Was pretty sure that outlaws Never cried You don't know what his Sad eyes tell Living alone with his Whiskey and beer You don't know what What might might have been hell Now you know That outlaws shed tears Outlaws shed tears Well down in the valley Of all good and evil There once lived a man Without anyone He sat on his porch drinking whiskey From the bottle As he dreamed of a life on the run He just kept sittin' there In his old rocking chair Aging like yesterday's wine His dreams and desires Burned on like wildfire Til he finally made up his mind Yeah, the fire in his soul Burned hot as a coal From the freedom he used to deny Without a care in this world Unfettered or furled What no small amount Of self pride Some couldn't handle the ride Yeah the fire in his soul Burned hot as a coal From the freedom He used to deny Without a care in this world Unfettered or furled With no small amount Of self pride Some couldn't handle the ride Yeah getting stoned on good beer And cheap wine Some couldn't handle the ride |
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