lyrics
This bottle of jack is my new best friend
because my old friends left me for a closet-kept leather suitcase
that my mother will find when she hauls all my shit
down to the street in exchange for rent
and i'm sure she wants back that travelin' bag
and I'll box my records up in the attic
cause the winos have been beggin' to get at 'em
and so is the gun and pawn on the boulevard
We sing
Glory, glory, hallelujah
The devil's out roaming the streets
Singin'
Glory, glory, hallelujah
I guess that bastard's out
he's a'looking for me
If you close your eyes is it easier
to wave goodbye, shift in reverse
and never ever return
Well, farewell pops I'll take of ma
I'll make up for when we were growin' up
on the farm on the outskirts of town
If you drink away everything they say
then hell becomes some real place
and the pews flood with refugees
Dad I hope everything works out
like you taught me down in the deep south
and all those promises are redeemed
If you get a chance could you ask your friend
why my grandparents are 86
and he crippled your fifties
justify that for me
We'll sing
Glory, glory, hallelujah
the devil's out roaming the streets
Singin'
Glory, glory, hallelujah
He's the best friend I got that never leaves
credits
from
Hallé EP,
released October 31, 2011
license
all rights reserved