There’s a cold front moving in
It’s a shame, the things we’re living in
There’s a boy on the corner – he wears no black shoes
He sways to the rhythm of the rhythm and blues
There’s a cold front moving in
It’s a shame, the things we’re living in
There’s a boy on the corner – he wears no black shoes
He sways to the rhythm of the rhythm and blues
I can feel it in my bones
I know it’s time to go home
You rise to great the new day Sun
You face each day like a loaded gun
It’s you or me son: Take your pick
Take your hate and swallow it
Brothers and sisters I can hear your cries
Like radio signals up in the sky
Brothers and sisters I hear your moans
So far from our home
I can feel in my bones
I know it’s time to go home
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway and need a place to sleep
Scott Fitzgerald and ten black sheep
Lost on the highway
I can feel it in my bones
I know it’s time to go home
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