| | Tore Down Flat In Jackson Lyrics Artist(Band):The Badlees
Black madonna, won't you change his luck and find him fifty grand? 'Cause he's tore down, months from nowhere, with the day-to-day out of his hands One key fit the door to their apartment, another fit the business he let die A stray dog whines as the August rains turn naked ground to mud And he's tore down, feelin' nothin' but the third-rate spirits in his blood He's livin' for a ticket on the whiskey train The saddest thing's to see him venerate that ball and chain Roadhouse corn done cut his strings to somewhere, paper rich done met a ball of fire Black dog cloud done filled his head and drained him like a vampire Now he's tore down flat in Jackson with a daily gig in the backdrop choir He's livin' for a ticket on the whiskey train The saddest thing's to see him venerate that ball and chain A thick late August field of pigweed dances, a T.V. from the fillin' station's heard He's holdin' up the wall, the moment says it all without a word Well, he's tore down, world stopped movin' when 'halfway to the label' claimed it cured If you find some error in Tore Down Flat In Jackson Lyrics, would you please submit your corrections to me? Thank You. Review the song Tore Down Flat In Jackson The area is only for review, if you want to submit the lyrics or the corrections of the lyrics, please click the link at the end of the lyrics.  Download "The Badlees" Music | |
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