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• Artiste: Weeks (The)
• Titre: Brother In The Night
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Well I trace shapes in clouds and I saw things I've never seen We move like renegades down interstates reload their magazine Almost killed us in that city it was far too close to call So we put money in the bags rip wanted posters off the wall Say I’m wanted for a murder of a man I've never seen They say I shot him dead, one to his head, somewhere in Holly Springs May have killed a man before not the one that they exclaim They’ll see the barrel of my gun before they ever see me hang Oh if my southern hearts still pumping blood Still pumping blood Well I'll bury my money in the mighty Mississippi mud Mississippi mud Oh and if my southern lungs won't let me breath Won't let me breath Then I'll wait for the cicadas and I’ll let them push it out for me Well death is always close there's always vultures on my trail And the inside of this hotels better than a prison cell Well that southern whiskeys stinging singing words upon my breath I was worried bout forgetting so I tattooed it on my chest I’m a southern man forever like the wind inside the pines And my grandma used to sing it oh to my brother and I How I wish could get back the precious thoughts and newer skin And we scurried out the window before the cops they busted in Oh if my southern hearts still pumping blood Still pumping blood Well I'll bury my money in the mighty Mississippi mud Mississippi mud Oh and if my southern lungs won't let me breath Won't let me breath Well I'll wait for the cicadas and I’ll let them push it out for me We were messengers for millions, we're a midnight masquerade We can walk away from all this as the town goes up in flames As civilians in a war we can die right where we live Well you can walk away from all this go back home and see your kids I've got a knife inside my boot yes my brothers got one too You can bring 'em on, lets have a ball, got nothing to lose I got hearts and bended knees that shake no one that can see No one here was coming faster, no one there will bother me Oh if my southern hearts still pumping blood Still pumping blood Well I'll bury my money in the mighty Mississippi mud Mississippi mud Oh and if my southern lungs won't let me breath Won't let me breath Well I'll wait for the cicadas and I’ll let them push it out for me