Charlie Miller's Garage

The whisky ain't dry at Charlie Miller's house,

We play garage games, we scream, and we shout.

The wood stove burning to keep us all warm,

The friendships here weather any storm.

So pass the bottle one more time,

Add the salt and the twist of lime.

Take that shot or sip it down,

No one can fill old Chuck’s crown.

A worn-out couch and a beat-up chair,

Laughing loud 'til we’re gasping for air.

Cards on the table, dice on the floor,

Memories made behind that creaky door.

So pass the bottle one more time,

Add the salt and the twist of lime.

Take that shot or sip it down,

No one can fill old Chuck’s crown.

If you're hurting or you're feeling blue,

Charlie Miller's got a seat for you.

A place to rest, a hand to hold,

A loyal heart is worth more than gold.

When the shadows grow long, and the party winds down,

We’ll toast to Chuck, the king of this town.

The wood stove flickers, the memories stay,

A friend like him, we won't drift away.