The good ole boys
Folk balladLyrics
“The Three Cunningham Brothers”
(Verse 1)
There’s Luke Cunningham, the youngest of three,
A farm boy with rhythm, wild and free.
He strums his guitar, and he’s got that charm,
Sweet-talkin’ the ladies with a wink and an arm.
He’s got Filmore playin’ in his beat-up truck,
When he walks down the street, all the girls run amok.
Carries pepper spray just to keep ‘em at bay,
Says, “Sorry, ladies, I’ve got tunes to play.”
(Chorus)
The Cunningham brothers, as wild as they come,
Three different souls, all beatin’ one drum.
They play cowboys and Indians, MMA, and seek,
Three wild brothers, and none of ‘em meek.
(Verse 2)
Now Jack’s the older one, the storyteller king,
With his hands and eyebrows, he’ll tell you everything.
A 30-second tale turns into a show,
You’ll be there for an hour before you even know.
He’ll stretch out a story, make it bend and twist,
By the time he’s done, you’ll wonder what you missed.
But Jack’s got a gift, yeah, he’s got that fire,
He’ll keep you hooked, never seem to tire.
(Chorus)
The Cunningham brothers, from dawn to dusk,
Three country boys with a bit of rust.
They play cowboys and Indians, MMA, and seek,
Three wild brothers, and none of ‘em weak.
(Verse 3)
Then there’s Sam, the youngest gruntin’ man,
Speaks in riddles, never gives you a plan.
He doesn’t say much, just a grunt or two,
But when he does, you know it’s true.
He’ll grunt to say “yes,” grunt to say “no,”
Grunts in riddles like you just don’t know.
But when he steps in that cage, or hides in the trees,
You better believe Sam’s the last you’ll see.
(Chorus - Final)
The Cunningham brothers, wild and free,
Luke, Jack, and Sam, just let ‘em be.
They play cowboys and Indians, MMA, and seek,
Three wild brothers, livin’ life unique.
(Outro)
Three different souls, but brothers at heart,
They’ll wrestle and rumble, never drift apart.
From farm to the field, they laugh and they play,
The Cunningham boys, forever that way.