jamey johnson high cost of living

I was just a normal guy
Life was just a nine to five
With bills and pressure
Piled up to the sky
She never asked
She knew I’d be
Hangin’ with my wilder friends
Looking for some other way to fly

And three days straight was no big feat
Could get by with no food or sleep
And crazy was becoming my new norm

I’d pass out on the bedroom floor
And sleep right through the calm before the storm

My life was just an old routine
Every day the same damn thing
I couldn’t even tell I was alive

I tell you
The high cost of livin’
Ain’t nothing like the cost of livin’ high

That southern Baptist parking lot
Is where I’d go to smoke my pot
Sit there in my pickup truck and pray
Staring at that giant cross
Just reminded me that I was lost
And it just never seemed to point the way

As soon as Jesus turned his back
I find my way across the track
Lookin’ just to score . . . another deal
With my back against that damn eight ball
I didn’t have to think or talk . . . or feel

My life was just an old routine
Every day the same damn thing
I couldn’t even tell I was alive

I tell you
The high cost of livin’
Ain’t nothing like the cost of livin’ high

My whole life went through my head
Layin’ in that motel bed
Watchin’ as the cops kicked in the door

I had a job and a piece of land
My sweet wife was my best friend
But I traded that for cocaine and a whore

With my new found sobriety
I’ve got the time to sit and think
Of all the things I had . . . and threw away

This prison is much colder than
That one that I was locked up in just yesterday

My life is just an old routine
Every day the same damn thing
Hell I can’t even tell if I’m alive

I tell you
The high cost of livin’
Ain’t nothing like the cost of livin’ high

I tell you
The high cost of livin’
Ain’t nothing like the cost of livin’ high

Heavy is the head that wears the crown

This past weekend was enough to make me realize that crawling into my hermit hole of solitude only works when people decide not to push through the barrier and distance that I've tried to put up. I miss hanging out with my two very first roommates from when i was 17. Nothing like reminiscing about coming home from school and finding one of my room mates passed out cold with a trail of wadded up paper toweling and glade cans leading to his passed out ass. Or people getting pissed off that if my dog wanted to sit at the kitchen table with us while we drank that meant that anyone not living there had to give up a seat to a mutt. I miss mystery stew, seeing massive beeramids of old mil cans stacked up getting ready to get returned to the store for more, one of my all time favorite memories is bless nicks soul but the one time the lazy motherfucker decides to clean the place he wiped off the footprints that were on the ceiling from doing keg stands so we hoisted little Luke upside down and made him walk on the ceiling to even it out. I miss botched jello shots that had too much booze to set so we ended up drinking it anyways even if it tasted like cough syrup that was poured out of a boot.