....13 grand A year in the Meadowlands Bored and rural-poor, lord, at 35, right? I'm the best 17 year old ever
Worked these sands I won't go back again Quitter quitter one boy bitter - rough luck Man to man hand to hand fight 40 We're losing sand! A wrens' ditch battle plan Record after record black and deckered tack! tack! definition: hell and high water fatty come a courtin' lord the money!
everyone choose sides the whole to-do of what to do for money Poorer or not this year and hell's the difference
Let's talk plans And luck said, 'double damned Were you give women worth winning or what? A wasted share of shots at high-tide heaven' Greener grasses fade from where you wind up
Everyone choose sides I'm back! I'm back! So sing to raise the blind up I've walked away from more than you imagine and I sleep just fine We fought and brought up more - the shovels high up On the 10-ton line