Pity my brother
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For how he's suffered me
|
Through nameless towns
|
And cold prairie
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For restless women
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At the end of the line
|
Who tendered checks for
|
A promise divine
|
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Cash as quick as "Vegas"
|
Like "Vegas" in a dream
|
I work this charismatic ruse
|
For my brother's peace and being
|
Sittin' tight in Moline
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The money on the bed
|
With every memory sharp to me
|
And the fear of times ahead
|
|
(Chorus)
|
Maybe the good book
|
Came from the divine
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Or maybe it was written
|
Just to keep us in line
|
The mistakes of the sages
|
Make the rules for the fools
|
So father forgive me
|
For bendin' the rules....
|
|
Well, mister he improved some
|
With the money I scammed
|
Some days his light shines as bright
|
As the light of the promised land
|
Death was often something
|
We freely would discuss
|
When he was ten and I was twelve
|
And the spectre would often brush
|
|
In and out of treatments
|
Since twenty months of age
|
At eighteen the insurance
|
No longer would maintain
|
And my old man in the kitchen
|
His hands upon his face
|
Did weep to shake his very soul
|
In the darkness of this place
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
Hold me saint Christopher
|
Over every county line
|
Overlook my blasphemy
|
For the sake of buying time
|
Grant him days of laughter
|
Bestow me clemency
|
He sleeps soft in the back seat
|
His freedom from ordeal
|
|
To every ruddy youngster
|
Off free in summer's fields
|
And every young lass poised to claim
|
Her share of what love yields
|
To all the grieving angels
|
And the litany of saints
|
I am my brother's keeper
|
To what end decides the fates
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
-----------------
|
Bendin' The Rules
|
| The Badlees |
