Shoot The Singer (1 Sick Verse)

[Verse]
Someone took in these pants
Somebody painted over paint
Painted wood
And where he stood
No one stands
It's been said he's sitting now
In the churning land
Oh, I've seen saints
But remember
I forgot to flag 'em down
When they pass
And in the morning light
You hold that ashtray tight
You can put it out
But I can't put it out

My hand shook
Down and out
I've got the blisters of the world
World knew
I named a book after you
So look up and watch the camera lens
When the risers fade
Slow it down
Song is sacred
And brother
You're a hunter
And you're right at home
And in the morning light
I'll hold my ashtray tight
I can take it down
And you can't take it down

Ta-da-da-da, ta-da-da
Ta-da-da-da, ta-da-da
Ta-da-da-da, ta-da-da
Ta-da-da-da, ta-da-da
Ta-da-da-da, ta-da-da
Ta-da-da-da, ta-da
Don't go, don't go
Oh, don't, oh, don't
What I've done
Don't expect
Don't expect
Don't expect
Don't expect
Don't expect
Don't expect
Don't expect