Prompt / Lyrics
(Title: “Tall Tales & Short Fuses”) Verse 1 I was born way up north where the Yankees talk funny But Mama moved south when the money got runny Pine Knot raised me on red-dirt and trouble Six-foot-seven of wrong-side-of-the-bubble Class of ’87 said “Boy, you ain’t goin’ far” Joke’s on them—I’m sippin’ shine out the lid of a Mason jar Two master’s degrees hangin’ next to my Green Beret Still the same wild hillbilly they threw away Pre-Chorus I got a still in the holler, a Bible on the dash A left hook from God and a right from Jack Chorus Yeah, I’m tall tales and short fuses, moonshine in my veins Runnin’ with a Cajun who’s half insane He’s five-foot-nothin’ but flies like the devil’s own son We drop in hot, get the job done From Kentucky ridges to Louisiana mud We’re whiskey-proof, bulletproof, born in the flood They said we’d never make it—look at us now Hell-raising heroes in a beat-up ol’ plow Verse 2 My buddy Brandon, we call him CubDriver Swamp-born and bred, meaner than a gator with a hangover He’ll land that bird on a dollar and give you back change Fix your AC in a hurricane, nothin’ feels strange Short little bastard with a dip in his lip Can outrun, outgun, and outdrink every son of a bitch We log off work, log on to war Black ops on the screen, cold beer on the floor Pre-Chorus He’s crawfish crazy, I’m white-lightnin’ loud Together we’re thunder wrapped up in a cloud Chorus Yeah, we’re tall tales and short fuses, moonshine in my veins Runnin’ with a Cajun who’s half insane He’s five-foot-nothin’ but flies like the devil’s own son We drop in hot, get the job done From Kentucky ridges to Louisiana mud We’re whiskey-proof, bulletproof, born in the flood They said we’d never make it—look at us now Hell-raising heroes in a beat-up ol’ plow Bridge Teachers said “least likely,” now they’re eatin’ crow I’m scrollin’ through my DD-214 slow Brandon’s laughin’, spittin’ Skoal in a Dixie cup Two redneck legends that just won’t shut up Final Chorus (big, rowdy, half-time then double-time kick) Yeah, we’re tall tales and short fuses, moonshine in our veins From the Green Mountains of grief to the fields of glory and pain We turned “you’ll never” into “watch me do it again” Here’s to the ones who were counted out—amen Raise ’em high, boys, from the holler to the bayou The least likely just became the damn few They said we’d never make it—look at us now Still standin’ ten feet tall in a six-foot town Outro So pour one out for the rebels who refused to behave We ain’t done raisin’ hell from the cradle to the grave Tall tales and short fuses… y’all can kiss our ass Least likely to succeed? Nah, we were just built to outlast. (Now crank the steel guitar, throw in a rowdy banjo roll, and let Morgan, Hardy, and Jelly all three take a verse live—that’s how you win every damn award in Nashville.)
Tags
Hardy, Jelly Roll country music flare sound
Duration
3:57
Instrumental
No
Created
11/27/2025