Lyrics

GRACE OF GOD

 

Standing in line

For throwaway food for a throwaway man

Shows me his teeth

Or should I say, the want of them

His girl was burned in the floor above

Left her to die in the fire

When push came to shove

Waiting for food

That no one wanted yesterday

It’s all a waste

So you might as well give it all away

They say, ‘God bless’, put a bag in your hand of bent canned goods

And bread like sand

The man was wrong

You can get lunch for free

If you’re willing to trade your pride

And stand in the street

There but for the grace of God goes me

Every curb is a cliff by the abyss when I feel like this

And I’m just a home away

From homelessness

And I look into their eyes and see

There but for the grace of God goes me

God!

HIT THE TOP

When you’re falling down

And you need something to hold onto

I’ll be waiting for you at your table

‘Cause your friends won’t be around

And you know you need some rocket fuel

When you’ve got a mule kicking in your stable

‘Cause you’ll hit the top

Before you see the bottom

But you’ll hit the bottom

Before you see the top

Now you ain’t no philosopher

But you wonder what it’s all for

When you know you won’t break ground until you’re buried

You’re like the shark that never drowns

Because you’re always moving on

And everything you’ll ever have will be temporary

UK TRAINS

In England UK

A Yank is never free

The trucks are all too small

If you can drive at all

The left’s gone right

And the rights gone wrong

It’ll turn you round

Til you don’t know what side you're on

I wanna get me on a train

And get me far from here

But the UK trains don’t take you nowhere

But the rain

And the sea

I can’t remember the last time

I drank under the stars

And passed out by an open fire

To wake up rough as a tire

In the arms of a redneck beauty

And my dog licking my face

And a bit of the dog that bit me

I couldn’t wait to leave it all behind

Now I miss those nights

Of driving slow through town

Bouncing off the walls

And back with you again

Thinking now

I wonder what we might have been

Wanna get me on a train

And get me far from here

But the UK trains don’t take you nowhere

But the rain

And the sea

The empty old sea

CAN’T TRUST DADDY

You can’t trust Daddy after five on Fridays

And Mommy just tells you to watch what you say

You’d think when Daddy starts singing everything’d be okay

But then Daddy starts swinging so get out of the way

The blues don’t mix so good with the booze

And Mommy don’t it make her brown eyes blue

‘Cause when Daddy starts singing listening to the records play

Daddy starts swinging so get out of the way

And Mommy, she raised eight kids

Whiskey-bred, Irish Catholic

The kids all sleep under their beds

They make dummies with pillows for their heads

‘Cause he comes in when you’re sleeping

And that’s when you’re really afraid

Cause then Daddy starts swinging

And you can’t get out of the way

And Daddy died in the drink

Took us all down when he sank

I can’t trust myself not to do the same

Every time I take a drink I’m playing a game

Cause when I’m singing I’m screaming

And I start to feel the rage

And after the show just get out of the way

© 2020 by Say Yes, Do Nothing

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