Highway Ruger Bandits - Old Folk Homes | Текст песни

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• Highway Ruger Bandits
• Old Folk Homes

Old Folk Homes,
never made much sense to me
Why wait to die,
in a place you don’t want to be?
Is this the life?
Growing old and turning gray?
Just to sit around,
and think of every mistake you made

So how’s the life?
Of the life you chose to live
Just getting by,
guess how many shits I give?
OK a few.
Enough to keep me up at night
Why do I care?
I know damn well you’ll never write.

Don’t call me a man
That’s someone I’ll never be
Don’t call me a friend
I’m someone you don’t really need

Just give me a hit;
I don’t care what it does to me
An altered state,
I need somewhere else to be
We’ll just stay young,
live past turning old and gray
We’ll write our songs,
and sing our cares away

Old Folk Homes,
never made much sense to me
Why wait to die,
in a place you don’t want to be?
Is this the life?
Growing old and turning gray?
Just to sit around,
and think of every mistake you made

Don’t call me a man
That’s someone I’ll never be
Don’t call me a friend
I’m someone you don’t really need

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