The Fighter, The Rube, The Asshole

Depressed and he sings about whiskey
Deranged and he’s covered in flies
The girls get their bindles delivered from boys on their bikes
And i don’t believe in anyone
And you’re not as hard as you say
You aren’t dying or soaking your soul
Boy, you don’t know shit about shame

You are a beautiful man with guitar covered in glory and love
You’ve never shaken and barfed in your bed even once

I don’t believe you’re a fighter
I don’t believe you’re a rube
I don’t believe in nothing you’re trying to prove

I’m up here dying with headfulls of pills
Fingers of rubber a heartful of chills
Oh?

Somewhere something’s on fire and somewhere a boy’s ’bout to die
Somewhere down in a rathole, they’re praying to come up alive

But this is the part where the pretty ones laugh while they’re pretending to cry

So bang on your drum and raise up your arms to the only god you’ve ever known
But stay the fuck out of my alley. This is my home

You ain’t nothing but an asshole