Four Beers in the Trunk
by Blake Weems and Justin Lambert


We hit the stateline it's a little two
Heading back home got nothing to prove
Prentiss County where trouble began
Pulling off the road for blue lights again
Ten miles from my home

"Hey there boys, whatcha got in the car?"
It was too late we'd come too far
I was scared to death never let it show
Dropped off trigger as I stepped out the door
Gotta give'em something
I got four beers in the trunk

Didn't have a jacket it was freezing cold
I was trying to remember the story he told
"Had my last beer six hours ago,
C'mon officer can't you just let us go?"
We got so very close

"Sorry there son, you look drunk to me.
Take a deep breath. Blow in this Machine."
That motherfucker had to let me go
I'm the damn machine i guess he didn't know
He said "Your buddy's goin' to jail."
For having four beers in the trunk

Call Teresa Lambert on the telephone
said, "You better come quick. Shit's gone wrong.
Your boy's in jail.  It's hard to say why.
They said they better not see my ass again tonight,
Or we'd be sharing a cell."

Hour an' a half later I'm walking out the door
Paid twenty-five dollars and nothing more
Called in favor froma boy back home
He said, "Don't worry 'bout court, use your telephone."
That's the way to treat a man
For having four beers in the trunk

Moral of the story I guess you'd say
Prentiss is only safe in the light of day
So if you're out late at night and your lights don't work
And your wearing an Americana Folk Festival shirt
Then you better be glad they only found your cooler
And those four beers in the trunk




Copyright Big Blue Truck Music 2006