Let's knock back a few And talk about life... Every synapse gone and all the smiles have faded They come en ma** to k** the child that came in Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa These hands beat red with the mercy k**ing Good eye, dead man, you hit your mark again These hands beat red with the mercy k**ing Good eye, dead man, you hit your mark again And all these words beg for the same damn thing now How to return to someplace far behind now
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa This heart is pumping blood much harder than you know These fists are squeezed too tightly ever to let go These are the syncopations on these weary bones These hands beat red with the mercy k**ing Good eye, dead man, you hit your mark again And this time, this time, this time I'll walk these avenues to find A place where I can let these dreams and demons go And finally rest my weary bones