I was born in a dump my mother died my daddy got drunk they Left me here to die or grow in the middle of Tobacco Road Tobacco Road Tobacco Road
I was sittin' there all alone I was prayin' you would come home I was listenin' to an old blues song You see, I'm wounded, wounded and bleeding Won't
I was born in a trunk Mama died and my daddy got drunk Left me here to die alone In the middle of Tobacco Road Growin' up rusty shack All I had was hangin
Coffee and Cigarettes are my only escape. I got my cup of Joe, my pack of stokes, And I'm on my way downtown, to Set up shop, and sing my cares away.
[Slug:] (What's your name foo?) Rappers steppin' to me They wanna get some But most of them should go and try to boost their monthly income Speaking
All to hell we must sail For the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller Than the God we once believed in Till the butcher and his
Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in The butcher and his crown
I was born in a bunk Mother died and my daddy got drunk Left me here to die or grow In the middle of Tobacco Road Grew up in a dusty shack And all I
Get out the chemicals Get out the rituals Eat all the dirty rats We are the dirty rats Get out the beautiful Kiss all the pretty mouths Bite all the sharpened
I have ordinary addictions I've outgrown the ways of the street And the nightshade Hey! Goodnight ladies... ladies bye bye I work odd hours, get home
I have ordinary addictions I've outgrown the ways of the street and the nightshade Hey! goodnight ladies... ladies bye bye. Iwork odd hours, get home
(G. Johnson) Well, she dialed a phone number Well, she dialed a phone number Well, she dialed a phone number Written on tobacco hand And her words
Albert! What? Bobby! What? For god's sake burn it down Nothing ever burns down by itself Every fire needs a little bit of help Nothing ever burns down
Reel this spool of string Strap the life jacket as tight as can be Oh, we can fish and fry Wave your last goodbye, could you see? There's too much tobacco
I heard you what the problem is I didn't hear you both You're coming through Like weird electric jive Bumming your role I'm playing your role Will you
It's 2 A.M. in my new home, this motel room An ashtray full of Lucky Strikes A half spent case of warm Bud Light Counting regrets, fighting back tears
Kent/Jerome Jerome/Richard Byron What is love You called it heaven above Star that shine in the night A bird that sings in its flight A flower that
I'm getting used to getting old but where's my ambition - Days of omission I feel broken down inside because my words seem to be trite adding to the overwhelming
