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• Artiste: An Old Fashioned Gunfight
• Titre: These Days
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i was born and raised i constantly walk these streets in a haze mouthing out words you're a saint, brand me cursed if i touch you, don't feel ashamed spell your name through the breaths tell the rest there's no chance if i touch you, you won't get away oh he's a whiz that kid he's gonna make us rich oh i don't know why i'm telling you all of this maybe it's the drink, well you know it's poison in my veins but it substitutes quite nicely, these days i died and was laid on a sunday, they put roses around my grave you said that you cried well i was there girl you lied i tried to touch you, you didn't feel a thing now i haunt your head, just like you haunted my bed i tried to touch you, you just called it a migrane oh he's a whiz that kid he's gonna make us rich oh i don't know why i'm telling you all of this maybe it's the drink, well you know it's poison in my veins but it substitutes quite nicely, these days your lips were made to be kissed by mine anybody else is just a waste of time i told you, well i told you son it's one and your done