filthy and anonymous in jackson, a dozen keys to nowhere in his handblack madonna, won't you change his luck and find him fifty grand?'cause he's tore down, months from nowhere, with the dayone key fit the door to her apartment, another fit the business he let diea stray dog whines as the august rains turn naked ground to mudand he's tore down, feelin' nothin' but the thirdhe's livin' for a ticket on the whiskey trainthe saddest thing's to see him venerate that ball and chainroadhouse corn done cut his strings to somewhere, paper rich done met a ball of fireblack dog cloud done filled his head and drained him like a vampirenow he's tore down flat in jackson with a daily gig in the backdrop choirhe's livin' for a ticket on the whiskey trainthe saddest thing's to see him venerate that ball and chaina thick late august field of pigweed dances, a tv from the fillin' station's heardhe's holdin' up the wall, the moment says it all without a wordwell, he's tore down, world stopped movin' when 'halfway to the label claimed it cured*********************.
האתר פועל ברישיון אקו"ם
כל הזכויות שמורות 2022 ©