"Tracking The Tropics" lyrics

I don't mind the heat, it feels good on my skin
Sweat in my leather seats like a good Texan
Toss me like paper, get caught in the wind
Holding my haters soft in the palm of my hand

Cast me out the kingdom
Take away my crown
Talk shit with the band
Kick me while I'm down

The weatherman says he's tracking the tropics
Another storm with a woman's name
She's catastrophic
If I ever get away from all these alcoholics
Lord knows I'll feel the same
My heart won't let me drop it
And I'm paying out of pocket

Why'd you pick me just to pick me apart?
I always stay too long when things get hard
Now I got a little money, there's gas in the car
And I can drive alone for days
Honey, it's an art

The coffee's burnt and stale
I'm out of my body
And the TV's showing hurricanes
In the hotel lobby

The weatherman says he's tracking the tropics
Another storm with a woman's name
She's catastrophic
If I ever get away from all these alcoholics
Lord knows I'll feel the same
My heart won't let me drop it
And I'm paying out of pocket

So take me back to the east side
I need a crowded bar on a Friday night
A tight dress, fits just right
A cigarette and summer thighs
And I promise not to cry

The weatherman says he's tracking the tropics
Another storm with a woman's name
She's catastrophic
If I ever get away from all these alcoholics
Lord knows I'll feel the same
My heart won't let me drop it
My heart won't let me drop it, no
My heart won't let me drop it
And I'm paying out of pocket