3 - The Game lyrics

Way down, way down Underneath the garden Wrapped up in some plastic That's where you'll find the bones Of Christopher John Bittner He was the first slain by my hand He was the ba** player in my band But I'd had all I could stand Of the game Well it started with the little things He'd make a mess, he'd break his strings He'd book us gigs and then forget the dates On practice days he'd seldom show And by the time he did it was time to go And in the studio he finally sealed his fate I put him way down, way down Underneath the garden Wrapped up in some plastic Yea, that's where you'll find the bones Of Christopher John Bittner He was the first slain by my hand He was the ba** player in my band But I'd had all I could stand Of the game Well we played on through the summer heat But Josh could hardly keep the beat It seems as though he drifted into space Always upstairs drinking forties Or outside chasing shorties I finally had to put him in his place I put him way down, way down Underneath my bedroom Walled up in the basement That's where you'll find the bones Of little Joshy Eppard Not the first slain by my hand He was the drummer in my band But I had all I could stand Of the game Well I guess that I've gone overboard Cause as I sit and strum these chords They sure could use a baseline and a beat And now the mirror makes me hauled I realize it's all my fault It's time to turn these murderous hands on me And I'll be way down, way down Underneath the garden Walled up in the basement That's where you'll find the bones Of guys without replacement I'll be the last slain by my hand I'm gonna reunite the band And we'll be in another land All the same All the same All the same All the same