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My grandmother owned a night club on the Arkansas-Oklahoma line.
Momma put me on a Greyhound an' I went to stay with her in the summertime.
I'd box up those empty long-necks and stack 'em in the back and bake a ham.
Then at night she'd let me sneak out of the kitchen and sit in with the band.

Yes, I have sacked some quarterbacks an' broke my share of bones along the way.
I knew it wouldn't last forever; semi-pro always means semi-payed.
I started climbin' drillin' rigs: I'm oil field trash and proud as I can be, yeah.
Then I took my songs an' guitar an' sang 'em for a man from Tennessee.

I've played every beer joint tavern from New York City out to Pasadena.
Every corn-dog fair and rodeo an' sold out every basketball arena.
Like to get down with my boys in Afghanistan and Baghdad City too.
I am a red, white and blue blood graduate of Honky Tonk U.

A star can't burn forever an' the brightest ones will someday lose their shine.
But the glass won't ever be half-empty in my optimistic mind.
I'll still have a song to sing an' a band to turn it up and play it loud.
As long as there's a bar room with a corner stage and a honky tonk crowd.

I've played every beer joint tavern from New York City out to Pasadena.
Every corn-dog fair and rodeo an' sold out every basketball arena.
I like to get down with my boys in Afghanistan and Baghdad City too.
Son, I'm a red, white and blue blood graduate of Honky Tonk U.
That's right: a red, white and blue blood graduate of Honky Tonk U.

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