With your soul-grabbing salt,
had the sky gasping for more,
come pistol-whip me some more,
I’m done with life for sure.
Take me to bed,
then something to tread,
troubled water in my sippy cup,
I’ll forget where we are.
Take me to bed,
then something to tread,
troubled water in my sippy cup,
I’ll forget where we are.
The color we came with,
let the rain pour,
ruin my sorghum and my wheat,
let the days fall.
If I were to tell you,
everything on my mind,
you’d be proud in your own creation, killing off, our own kind,
I’m done with life for sure.
Take me to bed,
then something to tread,
troubled water in my sippy cup,
I’ll forget where we are.
Take me to bed,
then something to tread,
troubled water in my sippy cup,
I’ll forget where we are.