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Iâm dead, I ainât got no roots
The toes are pokinâ through ma boots
Iâm deadwood.
But you canât say that Iâve fallen,
No, ma trunks still a tall âun.
Iâm deadwood.
Lotsa things crawlinâ through me.
The sins, they still choke me
Like the ropes wrapped âround a cottonwood tree.
Iâm deadwood.
Moss grows on my teeth
And the tears and sweat,
they stick to my cheeks
As thick as sap, clear as dew,
Iâm deadwood.
The crack falters my stance.
Iâm dried out and now I donât need me
no chances.
Iâm already deadwood.
Iâm crooked as the Good Lordâs book.
I asked for mercy, that donât come to fools
He gave me one look, shook His head
Now Iâm deadwood.
I await the day
when the wind no longer makes me sway
but fall down to my knees
and Iâll know what it means
to really plead for Mercy
And Iâll rot like deadwood.
Deadwood.
Deadwood.
But you need a scapegoat like me.
Yeh, this town, it needs itâs enemy.
Feast your eyes on this sorry pack of lies.
Watch yourself.
Watch where this deadwood lies.
See I am the town scapegoat and enemy.
I am the town scapegoat and enemy.
I am the town scapegoat and enemy.
See I am the town scapegoat and enemy.
- Álbum:
- Deadwood EP
- Deadwood