Grandpa's telling his stories
About the good old days
Daisy picking
Purple Haze
He says back then music mattered
Way back then young folks cared
They used d** for a reason
Love was shared
We were dwarfed by your shadow
Your sandals we couldn't fill
So we cranked up Hot Blooded
Shot-gunned Old Mill
Yeah, we shot-gunned Old Mill
Grandpa says we're all worthless
I'll bet his dad said the same
He's getting old, getting bitter
We ain't to blame
As far as happening decades
I guess we drew the short straw
Don't be so damned self-righteous
It was the luck of the draw
You dropped acid to Hendrix
We got drunk to The Cars
You protested a war
We played pinball in bars
We were dwarfed by your shadow
Your sandals we couldn't fill
So we cranked up Hot Blooded
Shot-gunned Old Mill
Yeah, we shot-gunned Old Mill