Old Man

Old man sits, with a glass in his hand
Hears the wind playing tunes of some band
Hazy eyes, clouds of smoke in his lungs
Reaching out for his last lonely song
On this earth

Crow flies on a straight perfect line
Like the voice of the souls left behind
St. Paul's orders: "The sinners must pay"
What the lord gives, he then takes it away
On this earth

Night, bed of nails
Wine, never fails
Fast, words you say
Had enough, pills today

Tired, of yourself
White, eyes and hair
Slow, words you say
Had enough, pills today

Been
Awake
Long time ago
Drinking
Hard
And getting stoned

In
The tomb
You're calling home
Old
Man
You'll die alone