| You may be sitting outside, now, just feeling like you’re bullet proof
|
| Turns out you ain’t doing a god damn thing, brown-bagging outside of that
|
| telephone booth
|
| All the times it seems so hard, just to get your hands upon the pouring rain
|
| Soon as you feel yourself crawl back up, you’re on your way back down again
|
| You just pray with me, lost daughters and sons
|
| Drink a little, smoke before the barrel of the gun
|
| Them troubles outside of my door
|
| There ain’t no way to add them up there’s going to be so many more
|
| You just stay with me lost daughters and sons
|
| Ain’t nobody leaving until this bottle is done
|
| Them troubles outside of my door
|
| There ain’t no way to add them up there’s going to be
|
| There’s going to be, there’s going to be so many more
|
| Now life’s cheap but surely got the power to transform a creature of the sky to
|
| a creature of the land
|
| It only takes just one card to either make or break a great hand
|
| You could be making so much noise then all of sudden smack, not a single sound
|
| Seems like a hand sweeps out of the sky and introduces your body to the grit of
|
| the ground
|
| You just pray with me, lost daughters and sons
|
| Ain’t nobody leaving until this bottle is done
|
| Them troubles outside of my door
|
| There ain’t no way to add them up there’s going to be so many more
|
| You just stay with me lost daughters and sons
|
| Drink a little, smoke before the barrel of the gun
|
| Them troubles outside of my door
|
| There ain’t no way to add them up there’s going to be
|
| There’s going to be, there’s going to be so many more
|
| Happiness, now what is this, just a ghost trapped shadow wrapped in choking
|
| chains
|
| A beast that’s seldom heard and seen, except inside of our miswired brains
|
| Top of the ladder, bottom of the barrel, both feel like they can’t be satisfied
|
| Some cross with a dime, some leave with a dollar, both got nothing on the other
|
| side
|
| You just pray with me, lost daughters and sons
|
| Drink a little, smoke before the barrel of the gun
|
| Them troubles outside of my door
|
| There ain’t no way to add them up there’s going to be so many more
|
| You just stay with me lost daughters and sons
|
| Ain’t nobody leaving until this bottle is done
|
| Them troubles outside of my door
|
| There ain’t no way to add them up there’s going to be
|
| There’s going to be, there’s going to be so many more |