I feel no pain
The battle is my ball and chain
Am I insane?
My breath smells like kerosene
Don't look at me
I'm a sight for sore eyes to see
I can't believe I'm a walking talking misery
Brain drain 190 grain
It's not the caine, not the mary jane
But the golden grain
Don't you touch my bottle
You might drop it break it then I die
think
stink
sight
redneck
walking
might
living
touch
brain
people
misery
little
bottle
fucking
blues
smells
break
breath
worth
about
believe
whiskey
means
change
kerosene
colored
talking
battle
chain
golden
drain
sympathy
remember
drink
caine
drunk
always
grain
insane
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