Picking for the waitstaff again. Baring my soul up on stage, where my guitars my only friend Slurring the words to a hit song, from a bottle that never ends Mama says Roy, before the devil does ya in Lord don’t let me die in a cheap motel, Gideon’s bible on the nightstand cant save me from the gates of hell Nothing more to offer no more soul to sell, lord don’t let me die in a cheap motel
Took em from their homes when they were young Five times I married, had kids with every one Never raised a hand in anger, scarred em just the same Mama said Roy, get home boy, your playing the devils game
Washed in the blood of the lamb Laying in the bathtub, with a pistol in my hand. Waiting on the reaper, to make my final stand. Mama said Roy; get after boy, your playing in the devil’s bandTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
