Lyric Of The Week

I used to have a job
but they shut it down

Girl with hair of flaming red
Seeking perfect lover
For to lie down on her feather bed

Some folks treat you like something under their shoe, ain’t nothin’ new.

Four cruel days under stormy skies
Not much bread to keep us alive
The wind kicked up and the rain came down

The high priest of money looks down on the river
The dawn coming up on his kingdom of gold

Hitchin’ down the highway
Ain’t feelin’ too well
Flaggin’ down the passersby

Rain leakin’ through the ceilin’
Wind blow through the door
Didn’t have no bed