Tore Down Flat In Jackson — текст песни (The Badlees)

Filthy and anonymous in Jackson, a dozen keys to nowhere in his hand
Black madonna, won`t you change his luck and find him fifty grand?
`Cause he`s tore down, months from nowhere, with the day-to-day out of his hands

One key fit the door to their apartment, another fit the business he let die
A stray dog whines as the August rains turn naked ground to mud
And he`s tore down, feelin` nothin` but the third-rate spirits in his blood

He`s livin` for a ticket on the whiskey train
The saddest thing`s to see him venerate that ball and chain

Roadhouse corn done cut his strings to somewhere, paper rich done met a ball of fire
Black dog cloud done filled his head and drained him like a vampire
Now he`s tore down flat in Jackson with a daily gig in the backdrop choir

He`s livin` for a ticket on the whiskey train
The saddest thing`s to see him venerate that ball and chain

A thick late August field of pigweed dances, a T.V. from the fillin` station`s heard
He`s holdin` up the wall, the moment says it all without a word
Well, he`s tore down, world stopped movin` when `halfway to the label` claimed it cured