Shoot The Singer (1 Sick Verse)

Someone took in these pants

Somebody painted over paint

Painted wood

And where he stood

No one stands

It's been said he's sitting now

In the churning land

I've seen saints

But remember

I forgot to flag them down

When they pass

And in the morning light

You hold that ashtray tight

You can put it out

But I can't put it out

My hand shook

Down and out

I've got the blisters of the world

World knew

I named a book after you

So look up

And watch the camera lens

When the risers fade

Slow it down

Song is sacred

And brother

Your a hunter

And you're right at home

And in the morning light

I'll hold my ashtray tight

I can take it down

And you can't take it down

Tadadara, tadada...

Don't expect

Don't expect