Picture an ending before it's begun The arts of forgiveness is not what we're taught Reek of the havoc already made The cradle was damaged, dug by the
Drank away the rest of the day Wonder what my liver would say Drink, that's all you can Blackened days with their bigger gales Blow in your parlor to
You always had what you wanted So leave it behind And if the glass isn't broken Then the future's not blind All that you know Means nothing to you But
Rank these words for lost inspiration Ain't that a barrel full of laughs Wipe your arse off the crumbs on the table Where they fall hungry on your land
Wipe the blood from your lip With the flesh of your hand There's no thorn in the side left to grow So let's cherish the names that were lost for an age
There's a breeze that's blowin' in from the land Instead of salt air all we breathe in is sand Crippled the cloud that once brought the rain Good job,
As your soul drifts on the plate To the floor where she is standing Rising by the fire From the torch you were burning Many years but many tears And
This lonely existence paves the way For the hard of hearts must beat, be brave While this quiet lightning storm Wrecks the harvest gold we try to sow
There's a government whip cracked across your back Where the order of the day is don't listen, attack See the blood run down in your bushwhack town Revolution
Took me everything I had To give all that I could Walk beside me while I sleep Steer me from the slumber wolf Tangled forest of the mind Speaks to me
Drank away the rest of the day Wonder what my liver'd say Drink, it's all you can Blackened days with their bigger gales Blow in your parlor to discuss
번역: 채찍질 몰리. 플로트.
: There's a government whip cracked across your back Where the honor of the day is don't listen, attack See the blood run down in your bushwhack town
: Drank away the rest of the day Wonder what my liver'd say Drink, it's all you can Blackened days with their bigger gales Blow in your parlor to discuss
: Rank these woods Where lost ispiration Ain't that a barrel full of laughs Wipe you arse of the crumbs on the table Where they fall hungry on your
: Wipe the blood from your lip With the flesh of your hand Theres no thorn in the side left to grow So lets cherrish the names that we lost for an age
: There's a breeze that's blowin' in from the land Instead of salt air all we breathe in is sand Crippled the cloud that once brought the rain Good job
