My brain, my fingers bought bottles in a package place. Got caught up on a park bench. Everybody tried to get a taste. When the sun goes down, I swear to God, they'll try to run you out of this town, and they will beat you down. The will beat you down if you stay around. You're gonna get shot down if you stay around, and you'll feel like a hungry dog in the street on a very short leash. My heart is a cancer; radiation wouldn't help a thing. My God doesn't answer; I pray nightly, every single week. When the liquor runs low, my friends run low. Got nowhere to go, no religion could ever save my soul. Nowhere to go, and I feel like a hungry dog in the street on a very short leash.