|
Do you remember the good times? |
|
We used to hang em on the heavy days |
|
Oh lord we was wild wind then |
|
Our heads full of dreams and cocaine |
|
Blowing through the ditches and city canyons |
|
And into the sky of those reckless days |
|
If I knew now what I knew then |
|
I'd run just a little bit harder |
|
And sing a song like Jesus did when they nailed him on high |
|
Funny how the time flies by until the flesh slides from our bones |
|
Here we are setting summer plans |
|
And the leaves have all turned brown and are falling |
|
And the rain is calling |
|
Riding in a coffin full of sunshine |
|
High up in the snowy highways |
|
There coked up the mountains look like the skulls of gods |
|
But they never made our graves |
|
Brother keep on rolling on |
|
And dragging your pride through the mud |
|
There may be nothing left to live for now |
|
But the wind blows on rusted days |
|
Let the sun fire into our eyes before our blood is rusted dry |
|
The speed rushing through our veins |
|
Is eating up the miles of this lonesome highway |
|
Let's crawl back onto the road before dawn |
|
Tries to keep our load |
|
Man, it's such a simple game |
|
Another town, another rusted day |
