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Nelsonwood Lane

de Matt Maeson

Eighty miles in a pup truck
I was on my way to scrapin' off the cuffs
Had some stepped-on shit, so I did me some
And you and I, we talked over toast
Mm, rediscussin' everything we know, we know
Then you got into my car and I drove you home

Oh, salvation with a pump fake
Oh, a fuckin' band is where I put my faith
But I ain't no servant to a man with a green, green face

Trantwood and a fat lip
Put on the cuffs and heard that Mike got bit
A fuckin' copper wouldn't tell me anything
In tidewater, I was comatose
That's when I knew that gaudy wave was just a choke
And so I quit another job and I hit the road

Oh, damnation in a full sprint
See, I was never shown a way to handle this
But I ain't no servant to a man drеssed in politics

I saw you comin' with the gun in your hands
I can't want this, I can't want this
I saw you comin' with a bag of demands (I saw you comin')
I can't want this (Can't want this)
I can't want this (Can't want)
I crawl to somеthin' with an eye full of plans
I'm not helpless, I'm not helpless (I need to, I need to)
I'm not the victim if I don't take a stand
I can't want this, I can't want this (I need to)

I can't want this, I can't want this

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