歌词
Digging alone at the bottom of the hill
Our protagonist named Bill
Sets his sights on an anchor steam pint
All he needs is thirteen quarters
Congregated in his hat
♪
A crow, a scavenger type
California redemption provides him with his rent
Room and board inside of a fifth of comfort
♪
As the wind penetrates his bones
His mind keeps focused
♪
Tidal waves of sound catapulted
From his horn wail like lovers
♪
The coins don't drop consistent as does the mercury
His meter slows realizing a zenith
He's reached perfection
No one did see him die