I sing a worried song because Im worried man I dont remember what it was but it must have been bad I walked and walked all through the night But Id never come to understand How in the morning when the sun came up I found that pistol in my hand God damn, I found that pistol in my hand Nothing happens but by chance boy, was their final word But I say were just on a breeze whirling around the world Maybe theyre right It could be true That Im where Im meant to be Cuz I prefer the torture of my thoughts, theyve never lied to me Not once Theyve never, ever lied to me Cuz if you rub your hands together long enough you might strike gold But if you wait around a month or two it will seem so old Well I got that kind of trouble, makes a poor boy want to roam Same kind of trouble makes a young girl stay at home And Ill be here until Im down to skin and bones I got the Lovells Stockade blues Theres no way out I got the Lovells Stockade blues
stockade, lovell, pistol, lied, cuz