I do not own transformers, I wish I did, that would rock. I do not own Brad Paisley. I wish I could sing like Brad Paisley. I love this song, but I didnt write it, he did, because he's a proffessional country singer and Im not. So dont sue me.
High Grade Lullaby
Dust marked the trail of an battered camaro as it slowly coasted up an familiar dirt road, coming to a shuddering stop at the top of the hill, overlooking the valley In a slow, almost painful sound, a robot sat where the car just had been. His bright yellow armour, now chipped and dented. Softly, like a scratched record, a mournful song echoed hauntingly from somewhere inside the giant mech.
"She
put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette
She broke
his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget
We
watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never
could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
Until the night...
He
put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally
drank away her memory
Blue Optics, dimmed softly. A single trickle of blue liquid trickled across the face of an old truck that had been running for far too long...
Life
is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to
get up off his knees
We found him with his face down in the
pillow
With a note that said I'll love her till I die
And when
we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey
lullaby
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaaaa
The
rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself
For years
and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath
She finally
drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get
drunk enough to get him off her mind
Until the night...
She put
that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank
away his memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than
the strength she had to get up off her knees
We found her with her
face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life
We
laid her next to him beneath the willow
While the angels sang a
whiskey lullaby
The robot's mighty head bowwed and the radio was replaced by a broken mechanical voice, soft and full of pain
La la la la la la la, la la la la la la la laaaaaaaaaaaa...
His last words, were a simple, quiet...
I will love you tell I die...
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Two hikers found him there, his massive metal body resting against the trunk of a gnarled willow tree. Blue optics, once vibrant and full of life, now empty and black... That morning, the news was filled with the tragic story of the death of two international heroes, the last surviving member of the group of alien robots who had saved the planet 68 years ago and Samual Witwicky, the boy who introduced them to the world, who had been found dead of natural causes in the front seat of his camaro, the morning before.