Lyrics

Thinkin’ back to Alabama
Where a much younger version of me
Stepped up to the Microphone
And sang about his first palm tree
Half a hour later
Had that first 45 in my Hand
From a sailor to a singer
It’s a life I never had planned

Chorus
But I’m still making records
I still tour every year
I can still be a landshark every now and then
Hey I’m Still Here
Yeah I’m still makin records
I’m still writing songs
Still see you smiling from these front row seats
To that crazy ass lawn

I didn’t do it for the fortunate or fame
It was all about the Girls
Altar boy turned diver
In a sea of pretty Girls
From Biloxi to New Orleans
I ride this big ’round ball with a Grin
Thanks to all you parrotheads
Where here to give it one more spin

Chorus
We still make records We still sing every year
We can still get those fins up every now and then
Hey We’re Still Here
Yeah We still makin records
We can still make you scream
We can still sing together no matter the weather
We can still Get Your Dream

Guitar Solo

The 45’s go way back
Can’t remember 8-track
James Brown on his knees
Abbey Road or Hendrix Leads
Doobie Heads and fifty flops
Am I country Am I pop?
Tryin’ to pratice what I preach
Sense of humor
Life’s a Beach

Now My Old Friend Neil
Hasn’t lost stage appeal
He’s still the man
Last night he did his magic
With that funky old martin in his hand
Well we talked and posed for pictures
With the faithful then he whispered in my ear
“In case you haven’t noticed, buddy, We’re Still Here”

Chorus
Yeah Neil’s still makin’ records
He’ still havin’ fun
Still Goin’ crazy horse every now and then
No he’s not dumb
Yeah We’re still makin records
We even make our own beer
And we’re still goin crazy on nights like this
Hell we’re still Here