Zach Bryan & Noeline Hofmann - Purple Gas

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I’ve got plates for Purple Gas
Bout the only break I catch
But I am not the kind of man
To blame the dealer on a losing hand

Have a lone star in my eye
The darker the sky
The brighter it shines
Pumpjack cheques and baler twine
A ton of grit or maybe it’s spite

And if I weren’t a flatland boy
I’d say I have a hill
A hill that I will die upon
if the climb don’t get me killed
If there were such heights around here
for a guy to lay his pride
Maybe I’d rest before I died
if I weren’t a flatland boy
If I weren’t a flatland boy

I hammer down, hair straight back
The World blurs past, tell me hows it that
My horizon line’s static
I guess at least it’s a sure bet

Was taught to not throw the first fist
But if you take a hit-Finish that
son-of-a-bitch
In a life having the upper hand’s a myth
Your only fighting chance is
too stubborn to quit

And if I weren’t a flatland boy
I’d say I have a hill
A hill that I will die upon
if the climb don’t get me killed
If there were such heights around here
for a guy to lay his pride
Maybe I’d rest before I died
if I weren’t a flatland boy
If I weren’t a flatland boy

Retired rail ties, point-nine wire,
Neighbor kid on the fencin’ pliers
Fargo that turns over fine
At forty-below if you cuss it right

A sly thumb of Rye sometimes
Keep a bottle hid with the Bio-Mycin
You can dull the edge, you can look ahead
But you can’t get there,
It goes on forever
Oh it just goes on forever
You keep your head down, it goes on forever

But I’ve got plates for Purple Gas

I’ve got plates for Purple Gas