Mr. Misunderstood - Eric Church
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Mr. Misunderstood - Eric Church
First time I met Alabama Hannah, I was skinny as a rail
Red hair tied up in a blue bandana; she was hotter than the devil's Hell
She turned me on to Back Porch Pickers, Jackson Pollock, and gin
Her daddy didn't trust my intentions, so he turned to his daddy's old .410
I'm Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood
Had an axe to grind, so off I went
Mad at the sun for coming up again
I lost religion, found my soul in the blues
Rubbed the velvet off my blue suede shoes
Yeah, everybody held up their hands
And every soul on Beale Street danced
With Mr. Misunderstood, Mr. Misunderstood
So I went with it like a colt on my Plymouth
Through the glass behind my rear-view
Took a left when the world went right down 16th Avenue
Played with fire and I played on ledges
Every circus, stage, and county fair
They tried to file my points, sand my edges, and I just grew out my hair
I'm Mr. Misunderstood, I'm Mr. Misunderstood