[Intro] A Here in South Carolina A We do things different A When it comes to fireworks, we don't hire professionals A We are professionals A We got what you call 'freelance firework shows' A This song is a tribute to an elite set of men A Who exercised their inalienable right A To shoot off fireworks [Verse] A Bobby taught us by example E Not to look down a Roman candle when you light it E He lost his right eye, but you know A He's a better-looking guy without it D And that jumbo bottle rocket Don lit in his pocket A Would've flew if it weren't for his belt loop E We were listening to Elvis when it shattered his pelvis A But it was cool 'cause it blew right at the end of Don't Be Cruel [Chorus] D A This song is for all our pyrotechnical heroes E A What they lacked in discretion they made up in combustion D The ones who lit the fuse and wound up A Dead, injured or lame E We saltute you A The fallen founding fathers of the Freelance Fireworks Hall of Fame [Verse] A Remember when Jed filled his pickup truck bed E Full of fireworks for a big time that night E One cigarette out his window E Made for one historical lightshow and to me A A poetic way to die D But the best has got to be D Bills ingenuity A With a man-sized rocket, duct tape and a lawn chair E Well he did good I reckon E He flew a full eight seconds A Without spilling one drop of his beer [Chorus] D A This song is for all our pyrotechnical heroes E Risking mutilation A All for detonation D They ignited the firestorm A Now we fan the flame E We salute you D A The fallen founding fathers of the Freelance Fireworks Hall of Fame