I was born in a dump my mother died my daddy got drunk they Left me here to die or grow in the middle of Tobacco Road Tobacco Road Tobacco Road
Bury all your secrets in my skin Come away with innocence and leave me with my sins The air around me still feels like a cage And love is just a camouflage
I was born in a trunk Mama died and my daddy got drunk Left me here to die alone In the middle of Tobacco Road Growin' up rusty shack All I had was hangin
It starts with vanity, arrogance and greed Panic is my obsession No one can escape, the thrill is much too great Despair is my creation Everything obscene
All to hell we must sail For the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller Than the God we once believed in Till the butcher and his
Off to hell we must sail for the shores of sweet Barbados Where the sugar cane grows taller than the God we once believed in The butcher and his crown
I was born in a bunk Mother died and my daddy got drunk Left me here to die or grow In the middle of Tobacco Road Grew up in a dusty shack And all I
as your face hits the floor you feel sorry for [that action] It's too late 'cause i ain't got no motherfucking fraction of remorse left and you best BELIEVE
I have ordinary addictions I've outgrown the ways of the street And the nightshade Hey! Goodnight ladies... ladies bye bye I work odd hours, get home
I have ordinary addictions I've outgrown the ways of the street and the nightshade Hey! goodnight ladies... ladies bye bye. Iwork odd hours, get home
(G. Johnson) Well, she dialed a phone number Well, she dialed a phone number Well, she dialed a phone number Written on tobacco hand And her words
Instrumental
Reel this spool of string Strap the life jacket as tight as can be Oh, we can fish and fry Wave your last goodbye, could you see? There's too much tobacco
leveling, graveling, gravelly groans exude my exhaustion, canonize all my tomes. this home is afloat on a yellow black moat of bile, hate and quile and
Loucura, insensatez, estado inevitavel Embalagem de iorgute inviolavel Fome, miseria, incompreensao O Brasil e "treta" campeao Quando eu repeti a quinta
Loucura , insensatez Estado inevitvel Embalagem de iogurte inviolvel . Fome , misria , incompreenso , O Brasil "Treta" Campeo Quando eu repeti a quinta
Mina, Seus cabelo e "da hora", Seu corpo e um violao, Meu docinho de coco, Ta me deixando louco. Minha brasilia amarela, Ta de portas abertas, Pra mode
Sabado de sol, aluguei um caminhao pra levar a galera pra comer feijao Chegando la, mas que vergonha, so tinha maconha os maconheiros tava doidao querendo
