I've changed the language on this song when played live. "I'm a slave" and the whole second verse has been transferred to the third person. I keep the recording as a monument to my ignorance, then, now, and forever. Amen.
lyrics
If every crooked cop and straitlaced criminal could raise a glass, share a laugh, share a drink, share a smile it’d be different for a while. But I can’t change your mind. These things look the same to me, I guess I could be blind to presume one person’s piss couldn’t be another’s perfume.
23 years older than an empty pocket, and it’s a little bit ironic I’m a slave to the free market. And they can sell my debt. These things take a toll on me. honesty, doubt, regret. But you can’t bury that much dirt and clean your hands on your new white shirt. I’m a poor man now and I’ll be that way until my last ungodly dying day.
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