Pete Got Stoned and Wrote Another One

I got a little smoke in the room tonight, A half-full glass and a head full of life, One bad thought turned into a line, Then the damn thing started keeping time. Wasn’t trying to write anything down, Just killing an hour while the sun went down, But the guitar found something I couldn’t outrun— Pete got stoned and wrote another one. One turned to two, two turned to ten, Same old stories wearing new skin again, Some make you laugh, some cut to the bone, Funny what you find when you’re sitting alone. Never planned on becoming this guy, Writing down truths I used to let slide, Give me six strings, a buzz, and some time— I’ll turn another bad idea into a rhyme. There’s one about drinking and one about age, One I probably oughta tear off the page, One about women who knew better than me, And one about boats that keep stealing my money. One came from midnight, one from a fight, One sounded stupid till it sounded right, I started with nothing but nowhere to run— Then Pete got stoned and wrote another one. One turned to two, two turned to ten, Same old stories wearing new skin again, Some make you laugh, some cut to the bone, Funny what you find when you’re sitting alone. Never planned on becoming this guy, Writing down truths I used to let slide, Give me six strings, a buzz, and some time— I’ll turn another bad idea into a rhyme. Maybe that’s all a song ever was, A little bit truth and a little bit buzz, Something you thought you were keeping inside Till a chord came along and opened it wide. One turned to two, two turned to ten, Hell, I might start the whole damn thing again, Some make you laugh, some cut to the bone, Some sound better when you leave ’em alone. Never planned on becoming this guy, Writing down truths I used to let slide, Give me six strings, a buzz, and some time— I’ll turn another bad idea into a rhyme. Wasn’t planning on writing anyone— Pete got stoned… And wrote another one.