We're goin' out tonight my son,
|
So bring your flask,
|
And bring your cross,
|
And bring your gun
|
And I've been borrowin' lots of cash
|
So you won't be needin' none
|
Just wear your good shoes
|
'Cause we're goin' out my son
|
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And I got a car loaded up with gas
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And parked right outside
|
I got a city map and a mission in my mind
|
I just need someone ridin' with me
|
Or a brother to my right
|
To keep me company
|
In that big ol' car outside
|
|
'Cause I don't wanna think about the world right now
|
I wanna go from bar-to-bar and wash the taste clean out
|
And I wanna feel the way I felt
|
When we were kids messin' around
|
Before I thought about the world I got to now
|
|
But don't go feelin' all stuck
|
And shamed for yr damned ol' dad
|
'Cause I've seen troubles
|
That could kill ten stronger men
|
It's just that all this weight from la-la-livin's
|
Been catchin' fire in my hands
|
Well, fuck this town son,
|
I wanna make 'em crawl again
|
|
And you tell your lady
|
Not to leave on that light
|
You tell her not to sit up
|
Worryin' all goddamn night
|
But if she's awake when you crawl home
|
You just shut your mouth and smile nice
|
You say ''Baby, I'm tired.
|
Can we please turn off those lights?''
|
You say ''Baby, I'm tired.
|
I just wanna shut off all those lights.''
|
|
-----------------
|
Yr Damned Ol' Dad
|
| Kevin Devine |
