I don't miss where I came from But each night I dream about being back home When I wake up in the morning I'm too tired, tired of being alone
So I get up and go downtown And pick me out a little piece of ground Where I can prove something to the world I can prove something to the world
Don't look at me I'm the bus stop boxer X2
Daddy put us in the truck and Dropped us off and said good luck, then One lucky kid waiting for the bus Made a winner out of one of us
Don't look at me I'm the bus stop boxer X2
Going down by the railroad tracks, where People know that they better not relax I'm the man, baby, I am the man This is where I can make you understand
Souljacker can't get my soul Ate my carcass in a black manhole Souljacker can't get my soul He can shoot me up full of bullet holes But the souljacker can't get my soul
Souljacker can't get my soul Left my carcass with the worms and moles Souljacker can't get my soul He can hang my neck from the old flagpole But the souljacker can't get my soul
going to your funeral and feeling I could scream everything goes away driving down the highway through the perfect sunny dream a perfect day for perfect pain
look at all the people with the flowers in their hands they put the flower on the box that’s holding all the sand that was... that was once... that was once you
Honolulu hurricane I knew that you were not insane living in the insane world smiling like it’s no big deal scrabby wounds that never heal the woman was only a girl
look at all the people with their heads down in their hands when everything I’m feeling makes it hard to understand that, uh what I need to miss... It’s what I need to miss... is you
going to your funeral and I’m feeling like a fool no one’s gonna take the blame thinking about the days of hanging out behind the school everything goes away
Mama gripped onto the milkman's hand And then she finally gave birth Years go by, still I don't know Who shall inherit this earth And no one will know my name until it's on the stone
This could be your lucky day... in hell Never know who it might be at your doorbell This could be your lucky day... in hell... in hell
Waking up with an ugly face Winston Churchill in drag Looking for new maternal embrace Another tired old gag Am I just a walking bag of chewed up dust and bones?
This could be your lucky day... in hell Never know who it might be at your doorbell This could be your lucky day... in hell... in hell
Father Theresa, you can't make me into you I never wanna be like you Why can't you see, it's me You know it's time to let me go
This could be your lucky day... in hell Never know who it might be at your doorbell This could be your lucky day... in hell... in hell... in hell... This could be your lucky day... in hell Never know who it might be at your door bell... in hell This could be your lucky day... in hell... in hell... in hell... in hell...
