Brewton Alabama at The Colonial Inn,nhot day, old orange juice, some vodka on a night stand,nthere's a Chevy Nova with the seat burned out the back,nfrom a Winston cigarette, that was stumped into the windnnold Bobby Long was like Zorba the Greek,nSide-tracked by the scent of a woman,nCould've been an actor on a moviescreennStayed in Alabama just a dreamer of dreamsnnHe played football against W.S.E.O.nshould've seen him running down the fieldnI grow old, I grow old where the bottoms of myntrousers rollednit's a love song, for Bobby LongnA love song, for Bobby LongnnINTRO (2x)nnhe was a handsome man, he had Cherokee cheeckbonesna fair haired boy, where did he go wrong,nhe chose a roadless travel, made all the difference,nnnow he’s chastisezed, critisiezed he don't make no sensenBrewton called him crazy, he said Bobby Long was nothing but a drunk,nbut all the thoughts in his head was way passed anything they duwmb funk nit's a love song, for Bobby Longna love song, for Bobby Longnnbut don't get me wrong, Bobby Long was no good,nhe'd drag you down, if he thought he couldnwell he would drag you down,nthe road I ride will be the day for menwon't come alongnthe road I ride is gonna set me freenhe’s gonna take me homennhe was a friend of my papa's he used to drink and tell liesnpraised Flannery O'Connors, smoked cigarettes and filosophiednso here I am at The Colonial Innnme and Captain Long and my pretty girl-friendnhe charmes her with a poem, then he brakes down and criesnsmile a crooked smile, with his broken cheeck-bone sidentells about his life, now he's 63,nhe looks me in the eyes, he says come and go with menhe could walk on water, walk on waternbut you know you drown themselves and wine ngod and a devil, god and a devil,ngod and a devil along inside his mindnit's a love song, for Bobby Longna love song, for Bobby Long