Sonny boy wore a silver chain, And he sold the tracks for the train. But I've got a hat in my hand that fit my best to a T, Broken easily.
Took the street from the curb below, Where it's too disturbing to go. Holding a needle in my hand above the symphony, Broken easily.
While the trumpets blare, Dissipate to air, And I've got praying hands hanging From a silver chain.
With a talent for catastrophe, I can't explain. When i count the steps to safety That i know will protect me The pain it just doesn't move Away from me