Name: Old Bar
Duration: 6 min 18 s
Channel: Kenneth R Sørensen - Stronz / Astro3000
Description: From the Album CrossRoads by Stronz / Astro3000. Everything have a beginning and here starts the tale of Old Sam .

Old Bar

Stronz and Astro3000

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From the Album CrossRoads by Stronz / Astro3000. Everything have a beginning and here starts the tale of Old Sam .

rock blues guitar

Stronz and Astro3000

Hi I love to experiment and play music also visit my mainpage : - soundclick.com/@astro3000 - and - reverbnation.com/Stronz and reverbnation.com/astro3000 -

An independent music producer and sound engineer for the past ten years. Has been producing songs through personal built-up studio. Produced songs was sold in the online market independently and mostly for personal use and compilation. Playing Guitar and Piano as main and second instrument , but not Limited to and have flexibility to use many other kinds of instruments And have a high learning curve to be able to quickly learn new techniques And types of instruments. Moreover, multiple abilities was learned and enhanced through the deep perseverance in self-education. Acquaintance and maintaining good relationship with various musicians personally and in the internet world , has been a guide to understand the aspects of the modern rhythmic music business from the very beginning And up to our present time. This be Jazz , Blues as well as Rock and Roll and through the aspects of Different music styles and experimental experiences in musical history.

Song Info

Genre

Alternative • Experimental

Author

Kenneth R Sørensen - Stronz / Astro3000

Rights

Kenneth R Sørensen - Stronz / Astro3000

Uploaded

January 28, 2025

Track Files

MP3

MP3 14.4 MB • 320 kbps • 6:18

Story behind the song

CrossRoads is a Jurney into what nightmare life can be.  A life experience that that is haunting the essence of life but  also give something bak , in the form of advice on what not to to do .

Lyrics

Old Bar

(Verse 1)  
Underneath the neon glow, where the shadows start to weave,  
There's a tale of broken dreams, in every heart that grieves.  
Whiskey's poured like memories, the jukebox sings a tune,  
In this old country bar, we dance beneath the moon.

(Chorus)  
In the old country bar, where the good meets the bad,  
Playing games with a gun, oh, the memories we had.  
With the bullet fire ringing, in the air so heavy and cold,  
Well raise a glass to the stories, that never grow old.

(Verse 2)  
The old hangout's calling, where the lost souls roam free,  
Every face a story, of whats come to be.  
Sippin on our regrets, as the night drags along,  
In this flickering candlelight, we find where we belong.

(Chorus)  
In the old country bar, where the good meets the bad,  
Playing games with a gun, oh, the memories we had.  
With the bullet fire ringing, in the air so heavy and cold,  
Well raise a glass to the stories, that never grow old.

(Bridge)  
And the devil deals the cards, in this smoky haze,  
While the angels watch from shadows, caught in a twisted maze.  
A final showdown's coming, under the stars up high,  
With a heart full of thunder, and a head full of why.

(Chorus)  
In the old country bar, where the good meets the bad,  
Playing games with a gun, oh, the memories we had.  
With the bullet fire ringing, in the air so heavy and cold,  
Well raise a glass to the stories, that never grow old.

(Outro)  

The old hangout's calling, where the lost souls roam free,  
Every face a story, of whats come to be.  
Sippin on our regrets, as the night drags along,  
In this flickering candlelight, we find where we belong.

So heres to the laughter, and heres to the scars,  
In the heart of the night, at the old country bar.  
With the bullet fire ringing, let the truth be told,  
In the old country bar, our tales never grow old.  
In the old country bar, our tales never grow old.  
In the old country bar, our tales never grow old.

In the old country bar, where the good meets the bad,  
Playing games with a gun, oh, the memories we had.  
With the bullet fire ringing, in the air so heavy and cold,  
Well raise a glass to the stories, that never grow old

So heres to the laughter, and heres to the scars,  
In the heart of the night, at the old country bar.  
With the bullet fire ringing, let the truth be told,  
In the old country bar, our tales never grow old.

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