Texty:
Snake The Cross The Crown The Cotton Teeth

Good ol' Jack McGee, Yeah, we all think you should go to the hospital, And try to get some rest. And dear old sister Sue, What would you do, If the

Jaws started droppin' as them crops bowed down to the ground, And then leaves turned to brown, Dust a blowin' into town as the people rode out, Cause

I, I wanna live on the stage, I wanna play the guitar, And I wanna get paid. But no, responsibilities please. I wanna do what I want, And I wanna get

She said the city's not for sleeping, And the nighttime is for me. And cause my gody is forsaken, In the end I'll come home for I am he. Sweet Virginia

Humming to himself as he is thinking of his latest debts, Juggling some numbered thoughts, Wondering what might come next. And knows he won't ever stop