Guitar thug blew into town
|
His eyes like wheels spinnin' round
|
Jerkin-off at every sound
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Layin' all his crosses down
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O yeah
|
He got Six Strings
|
The Six Strings that drew blood
|
|
|
The bar is full of Holy-Joes
|
A Holy-hole-a-whole-aria
|
Around the neck of our consumptive rose
|
is the root of all his sorrows
|
O yeah
|
He got Six Strings
|
Six Strings that drew blood
|
A Holy-hole-a-whole-aria
|
Six Strings that drew blood
|
|
|
In the bathroom under cover
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He turns on one tap to discover
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He's smashed his teeth out on the other
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Well he look in the mirror and say
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don't fuck me brother
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Cause I got Six Strings
|
Six Strings that drew blood
|
|
|
Numbin' the runt of reputation they call rat fame
|
Top-E as a tourniquet
|
A low tune whistles across his grave
|
Forever the master and the slave of his Six Strings
|
A Holy-hole-a-whole-aria
|
Six Strings that drew blood.
|
|
-----------------
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The Six Strings That Drew Blood
|
| Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds |