I was under the boss when they made him And I was made a short time after that I was under oath when I testified I'm under government protection Now they
Without any training it's pouring, it's raining Training or a trade, hey you bet I'm afraid Unequipped with a skill but I'm thrilled with the thrill Underskilled
They played something They made something Brand new a baby blue machine Brass tacks, duct tape For the great escape Packed in there like sardines Back
One, two, three, four He didn't hit me for a home Or hit me up 'cause he was cold He was addicted to drugs And I could see that in his eyes What about
It's gripping, I'm ripping I haven't just been sipping Stressing, no messing Will I ever learn my lesson? I'm always amazed by what can take place Within
I've got a dollar that I want to save Safe in my pocket, I'll try to hold fast Hey, it might be my last I know what I've got folded safe in its spot
I heard the news baby All about your disease Yeah, you may have all you want baby But I got somethin' you need, oh yeah Ain't talkin' 'bout love My love
Mmm, gonna dive into a jive I've dove into before Gonna haunt a haunt I've haunted Like a million times or more A familiar joint where getting drunk's
(N. Albert, D. Brockenborough) Polk-a-dots just don't go pointy shoes hurt my toes paisley makes me nauseous when I'm down with plaid, be cautious fucked
You would break so easily So fragile that it frightens me A harsh sudden reality A painful possibility To see it's like the strangest dream To be it
I can't help it if I was Hey, if I wasn't born with a Cool name like Dicky Alright, my name is Dicky Barrett From Boston, Massachusetts With me tonight
You're off base Out of line and in my face Brace yourself I'm coming through And before you know what's hit you You'll have heard my point of view Trash
To put up with the output I don't think about it Hold on and hold out or I'd be left out without it Things better get better I gotta get Thing's should
I like noise, that's why I'm livin' where I am I like the noise and confusion of a traffic jam I like the sound of a jet as it's shakin' my dwellin' I
4:30 in the morning, I'm tattered, tired and torn Trying to keep up with the pace, this ain't my home and it ain't my place The candle keeps on burning
{God, he is up there He is up there I can't fucking hear anything What the fuck? I think he can't hear anything} Well I woke up early On the tenth anniversary
From the impression that I get 7" single They're at it again. (4x) Hard-hitting journalism, an explosive expose' On a subject that has everyone
Remember that night? It seems so clear, now he's back And I'm glad he's here Three long years, millions of beers But the devil is back, so girls, dry