Takers, The
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Well my weekdays are bitter and painful,
And my weeknights are restless at best,
And I pay out of pocket for doctors,
To check out the pains in my chest,
And the postman brings logs for the fire,
Threw a match on my old mailbox,
If the lights are still on this Friday,
I'm gonna drink 'til the turn 'em off...

'Cause I was born a sad old singer of songs,
Like a slow movin' outlaw, I'll behind them bar before long,
If I turn away from the music,
I reckon I'll just hop on a train,
But tonight I'm gonna taker easy,
Fake a smile,
While I go insane...

My neighbors are drunkards and fighters,
And my guitar stays out of tune,
They're both a part of the choir,
That sings me to sleep every noon,
I'd make it if I had the money,
But my rent won't be paid in dreams,
So I'll cut the smoke with mu heartbreak,
And I'll play 'til my fingertips bleed...

And the hard times way heavy on my breath,
Turnin' out my pockets just to find there's nothin' left,
There's no rhyme or reason, I'm traveling down this road,
But there's a righteous pride inside me, that just won't let it go...


Mirror lyrics:

But there's a righteous pride inside me, that just won't let it go...
There's no rhyme or reason, I'm traveling down this road,
Turnin' out my pockets just to find there's nothin' left,
And the hard times way heavy on my breath,

And I'll play 'til my fingertips bleed...
So I'll cut the smoke with mu heartbreak,
But my rent won't be paid in dreams,
I'd make it if I had the money,
That sings me to sleep every noon,
They're both a part of the choir,
And my guitar stays out of tune,
My neighbors are drunkards and fighters,

While I go insane...
Fake a smile,
But tonight I'm gonna taker easy,
I reckon I'll just hop on a train,
If I turn away from the music,
Like a slow movin' outlaw, I'll behind them bar before long,
'Cause I was born a sad old singer of songs,

I'm gonna drink 'til the turn 'em off...
If the lights are still on this Friday,
Threw a match on my old mailbox,
And the postman brings logs for the fire,
To check out the pains in my chest,
And I pay out of pocket for doctors,
And my weeknights are restless at best,
Well my weekdays are bitter and painful,


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