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Running with Our Eyes Closed

de Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit

The devil is my running mate.
This here is his favorite state
Sorry you folks had to wait.
He always likes to show up late
No, that ain't a rainbow son.
It's streetlamps on petroleum
Let's pull in here and get us some.
Supplies are running out now.

It ain't the reason for the war.
That's meanness boy and nothing more.
They tried to do this all before,
But daddy wouldn't let them
Sometimes I don't what I got into.
Sometimes I can't stand to read my name.
Sometimes I can only hear their voices
Casting me back from where I came

The devil is my running mate.
Confusion is his favorite state.
Surely you folks can relate.
I know we've gathered here to hate
It doesn't matter who we blame
As long as you all hear a name.
All them bastards look the same.
Everyone is guilty.

Everybody look away.
Look away. Look away.
It doesn't matter what I say.
It's what I do that's shifty
Sometimes I don't know what we got into.
Sometimes I don't think I know a thing.
Sometimes I can't even see the trees now
For the flames, for the flames.

The devil is my running mate,
And this here is his favorite state.
There ain't no other candidate.
It wouldn't matter anyway.
The devil is my running mate.
The devil is my running mate.
The devil is my running mate.

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