You're a bucket of blues
You walk in the shadows
You wear dead mans shoes
You're a self centered martyr
You're a room with no view
And the devil himself has control over you
You have no respect for the life that you live
You steal and you take yet you fail to give
You're the idiot truth who just can't understand
That the journey you take is the way that he planned
You're a car crash that no one is able to mend
Your dealer your only reliable friend
He's the sore on your wound that will never then heal
While you ride on the tracks that you try to conceal
No comments:
Post a Comment