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Tommy

Tommy was a preacher's son

Now he's running through the jungle (Yes sir!)

Fingers cold and fire

When you get so tired and we're so tired

Lazing back in this desert

Waitin' for that sunny day

Tommy was a preacher's son

Now he's running through the streets sellin' up that cocaine

Those fires will get ya

When you get too tired and we're so tired

Eyes blister beaded fortress rolling fevered freight trains in

Well I met three men with friends in office

Smooth dark skin and ivory teeth smiles

Our boots come alive in this mud and this shit

"Life is hard to fill with teeth that bite and eat up our fears"

Through August fall of '69

Jesus had birthed him

He spoke in guns through crippled sheets

For Jesus had birthed him

Sugar cubes fingernails worming snakes that built the fire

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written by GOURLEY, JOHN BALDWIN

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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