1. |
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He could've been hit by a bus, died in the street, or died of old age tucked away in his sleep but 20 years passed, a momentary lapse, a needle in his arm took away any chance
So useless, no future 4x
Blue on the bathroom floor's all he got
Should've been the victim but instead he hatched the plot
They say just another goddamn junkies fucking dead
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2. |
Dance to the Drum
02:45
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I saw you bleeding when they knocked you down to the ground
and though your voice was just a whisper I could still hear the sound
They told you don't sing your song, not to dance to the drum
You've got to go to work break your back until the day is done
They pluck your feathers to take your flight
They'll cut out your eyes to take your sight
They told you don't sing your song, not to dance to the drum
You've got to fall in line until your life is done
And they sing
Die with me 4x
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Blind Mountain Holler Vista, California
Lowdown, front porch, Americana poets with a penchant for writing about tramps, junkies, sex, and death.
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