Music Video

Long Island Sound
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
James McMurtry
James McMurtry
Acoustic Guitar
Dirk Powell
Dirk Powell
Fiddle
Mike McGoldrick
Mike McGoldrick
Uilleann Pipes
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
James McMurtry
James McMurtry
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
CC Adcock
CC Adcock
Producer
Mike Napolitano
Mike Napolitano
Producer

Lyrics

New Mexico's lost on the back streets of Austin Carolina keeps all her thoughts to herself Tennessee's tight and he will not stop talking Somebody shush him before I have to myself Wrote that verse for the kids but I never did sing it I filed it away and forgot it in time My old guitar sits in the back bedroom closet Next to the shotgun I got when I was nine If I had any sense I'd be way cross the Whitestone I might as well as sit here a while before I start 'Cause when the 5:30 rush hits the Cross Island Parkway It's not for the squeamish or the gentle of heart I'd be stuck on the bridge in the right lane at sunset Watching the boats with their snowy white sails Watching the sun sinking over the projects Laundry hung out off the balcony rails And where are you now my long secret love Where have you gone in your glamorous life Where are you now as the moon comes a rising Are you somebody's love are you somebody's wife These are the best days these are the best days Y'all put your money away I got the round Here's to all you strangers, the Mets and the Rangers Long may we thrive on the Long Island Sound I don't know what goes on in those crumbling brick buildings They're on the same planet in a whole other world I've got a bay boat and a 401K Two cars in the driveway two boys and a girl It doesn't seem like that long since we came up from Tulsa Been here six years and I reckon we'll stay The company's not bad as the companies go They've still got the health plan and they're raising my pay And the kids all play soccer like nobody's business My grandmother says we're just letting them fall through They don't go to church and we're not gonna make 'em They all drop their Rs like the islanders do These are the best days these are the best days Y'all put your money away I got the round Here's to all you strangers, the Mets and the Rangers Long may we thrive on the Long Island Sound I remember her singing from that dusty old hymnal Smelled like tobacco from grandaddy's pipe That old rugged cross until she shook down the shingles You never heard such a noise in your life I had a tire run low so I dug through the glove box I needed the manual to locate the jack I found a couple old picks and a 20-gauge shot shell Left from a dove hunt a couple years back These are the best days these are the best days Y'all put your money away I got the round Here's to all you strangers, the Mets and the Rangers Long may we thrive on the Long Island Sound Long may we thrive on the Long Island Sound New Mexico's lost on the back streets of Austin Carolina keeps all her thoughts to herself
Writer(s): James Mc Murtry Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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