| Lyrics:
Thinkin’ back to Alabama where a much younger version of me
I stepped up to the microphone and sang about my first palm tree
Half an hour later held that first 45 in my hand
From a sailor to a singer, a life I really never had planned
Chorus:
But I’m still makin’ records
I still tour every year
I can still be a landshark, every now and then
Hey, I’m still here.
Yea, I’m still making records
I’m still writing songs
Still see ya smilin’ from these front row seats to that crazy ass lawn
I didn’t do it for the fortune or the fame; it was all about the girls
Altar boy to diver in a sea of uncollected lovely pearls
From Biloxi here to Houston I ride this big round ball with a grin
Thanks to all you Parrotheads were here to give it one more spin (Let’s spin it!)
Chorus:
We’re still makin’ records
We still sing every year
We can still get those fins up, every now and then,
Yea, we’re still here
Yea, we’re still makin’ records
We can still make you scream
We can still sing together no matter what the weather
We can still get your dreams
The 45's go way back
Who Remembers 8-track?
James Brown, Abbey Road, Hendrix Beat
Doobie Heads and fifty flops
Am I country, Am I pop?
Tryin' to pratice what I preach
Sense of humor, Life's a Beach
Now my old friend Neil hasn’t lost his stage appeal he’s still the Man
Last night he did his magic with that funky old Martin in his hands
Well, we talked and posed for pictures with the faithful, then he whispered in my ear
In case you haven’t noticed buddy “Hey…we’re still here!”
Yea, Neil is still makin’ records.
He’s still havin’ fun
Still going crazy horse every now and then
No, he’s not done
Yea, we’re still makin’ records
We even make our own BEER!
And we’re still goin’ crazy on nights like this
Hell, we’re still here!
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