Guest
Don't worry about saying goodbye; I'm sure we'll do this all again soon enough. Haha... get off my bus. Spotify: Bandcamp: SoundCloud: --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- LYRICS: He says now- I say now- He’s got a- Well, I was walking down the street when out the corner of my eye, I see this puny, little thing skulk into sight. And so I creep up from behind and put a gun up to his head; I make it clear that I’m not looking for a fight. I say “Give me all you got. I want your money, not your life, but if you try to make a move, I won’t think twice.” He says now “You can have my cash but first, you know I gotta ask, what made you wanna live this kind of life?” I said “There ain’t no rest for the wicked. Money don’t grow on trees. I got bills to pay. I got mouths to feed. There ain’t nothing in this world for free. Oh, no I can’t slow down. I can’t hold back, though you know I wish I could. Oh, no there ain’t no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good.” Not even fifteen minutes later, I’m still walking down the street when I hear those rotten reds and blues begin to wail. And so I bust into the truck stop so conveniently near, as the cashier realizes he ain’t making a sale. I say now “I won’t say this twice, so listen up and listen well. You make one sound, signal or motion and I shoot. No, I ain’t cashing out just yet, but if I’ve placed a losing bet then God DAMN IT, man, you better bet you’re coming too. Oh, there ain’t no rest for the wicked. Money don’t grow on trees. I got bills to pay. I got mouths to feed. There ain’t nothing in this world for free. Oh, no I can’t slow down. I can’t hold back, though you know I wish I could. Oh, no there ain’t no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good.” YEAAAAAAHHH Now, the cops ask the cashier if he’s seen anyone odd and without missing one damn beat, he nods and sighs. He says “Yes, indeed I have. He’s sitting underneath the till. He’s got a pistol pointed right between my eyes.” And I admit, I sat there shocked. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard and by the time I came back to, my hands were tied. The police read me my rights while I sat blinded by their lights, but all I could hear was that cashier’s voice of spite. With a smoke in his left hand and my pistol in his right, he said “There ain’t no rest for the wicked. That much, I know, you see. But if you choose to use that pathetic excuse then you’ll get no sympathy from me. You know, we’re all kicked down. We’re all fucked up and one day, you know we’ll all die. Oh, no there ain’t no rest for the wicked, but that ain’t where our difference lies.” YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH You know there ain’t no rest for the wicked. Money don’t grow on trees. We got bills to pay. We got mouths to feed. There ain’t nothing in this world for free. Oh, no we can’t slow down. We can’t hold back, though you know we wish we could. Oh, no there ain’t no rest for the wicked until we close our eyes for good.
