---

One more shot of whiskey.

I’d like to thank you.

I’ve lost this tomorrow.

It’s too damn late.

The memories, never a changing.

Drinking from a beggars broken hands.

Everyone just keeps on singing their sad song.

All gone… All gone.

This is just another suicide song.

Where another country song dies.

Six bullets left, open bleeding.

Our back is broken; the blood is white.

Thomas Wolfe, keeps writing our sad story.

Fall past the dock, our neck broken.

Sleep soaks a Devil’s dream.

Where the cold bleeds out the mouth.

Go on now---drink from the Mississippi’s tears.

The bayou ebbs and flows; New Orleans, our dying home.

Nawlins, nawlins, nawlins.