Don't know if I believe in god But sometimes I pray Because the way I was raised Keeps me afraid
A scientist that has to have his way I subsist of a steady diet of shame
I hope I can forgive me For having the nerve to exist I hope someone can help me Make some sense of this
I work a ten hour grave From nine to seven And I can't fall asleep Until eleven past eleven
There's no drug that I can take That will keep me from being awake Past my, past my bedtime
Truckers are the blood in the veins of the body of America States are the arms and the legs and the brains and the eyes
There's a disease spreading from organ to Oregan. And you are the white blood cell that fixes the problem
You don't know your own power You don't know what you're worth You don't recognize your valor And until you do, nothing you do will matterTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.