Whiskey in the Dirt

[Verse 1]
Found your note in the glovebox
Folded up like a losing hand
Said you’re tired of my bad bets
Tired of my “I got plans”
Dust on the dash
Bills on the table
Half-warm beer by the sink
I ain’t good at clean breaks
I just pour and don’t think
[Chorus]
So here I am
Spilling whiskey in the dirt again
Talking to the sky like it’s a long-lost friend
Swearing I’ll change when it really hurts
But I still end up
Pouring whiskey in the dirt
(whiskey in the dirt)
[Verse 2]
Your mama called on a Sunday
Asked if I’m eating at all
I lied and said I’m doing better
Stared straight into the wall
Your ghost’s in my worn-out flannel
Hanging off the bedroom door
Every “maybe” that I never answered
Soaking through this porch
[Chorus]
So here I am
Spilling whiskey in the dirt again
Talking to the sky like it’s a long-lost friend
Swearing I’ll change when it really hurts
But I still end up
Pouring whiskey in the dirt
(yeah, it still burns)
[Bridge]
I swear I’m done with empty toasts
Done chasing down what I let go
But my hand shakes
Heart breaks
I crack that seal anyway
If you drove back down this gravel road
And saw this mess I made alone
You’d know the truth
Every word
I loved you more than I loved that hurt
[Chorus]
So here I am
Spilling whiskey in the dirt again
Calling out your name like it might mend
Swearing I’ll change
And for what it’s worth
I’m on my knees
Pouring whiskey in the dirt
(whiskey in the dirt)
Just me and the dark
And whiskey in the dirt

rock, Late-90s alt-country meets modern pop-country: male vocals over overdriven tele-style guitars, roomy drums layered with subtle 808 thump, and a moody, mid-tempo groove. Verses stay intimate with picked electric and organ pad; chorus turns anthemic with wide gang vocals, open hi-hats, and soaring melodic hooks. Bridge strips to bass, kick, and vocal before a final, big-band-style chorus lift., pop, alternative country, pop rock, country, male vocals, electric, country rock, moody