Put the bullet in the barrell take the safety off keep shootin' at the devil in the moonlight put it all on black till your luck comes back we're all waitin' for the end what kind of finish will he send these hands made of splinters keep knockin' back the whiskey sours I've got a few more days to go and I've got another crust of bread somewhere holed up waiting in this is this whats left of the house fill the lamp up with kerosene and toss the rest in the hall just coat the walls and strike the cigarette when you hear them coming we'll pray for them and stay with them till the poor little bastards die hand in hand we'll never forget them when they're gone so keep the girls inside of the little church with their bruised knees on the pews.
A Masters In Reverse Psychology
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