It Won't Hurt by Dwight Yoakam
It won't hurt when I fall down from this bar stool
And it won't hurt when I stumble in the street
It won't hurt 'cause this whiskey eases misery
But even whiskey cannot ease your hurting me
Today I had another bout with sorrow
You know this time I almost won
If this bottle would just hold out 'til tomorrow
I know that I'd have sorrow on the run
Your memory comes back up with each sunrise
I reach out for the bottle and find it's gone
Yeah, Lord, somewhere every night the whiskey leaves me
To face this cold, cold world on my own
So rather than whiskey as the agent of the devil leading you astray (see 28 May), we have whiskey as medicine, essential medicine for the heart (even though it doesn't really work). Imagine facing "this cold, cold world" without it! In fact, I'm getting thirsty. So I'll be brief. Whiskey writing isn't just about taste, color and aroma. Or trips to the distillery. Whiskey lore is rich, and I'm just scratching the surface here with songs about our favorite spirit. Thanks, Dwight, for the inspiration. Look for more whiskey lore from TPP in the future.
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