Pity from Coalmine by The Woes

They've already cast the lots
For the weeping and the dead
The only one still waiting here is me
Moltov cocktail you drink it up
I'll wait until you pass the cup
I swallow fire water with ease
Early in the day the man came 'round
Singing "I am he"
Though I repeated every line
Not one belonged to me
Unload my sorrow to sow the plain
I'm not your friend, I'm not your man
I'm no one and there's nothing to my song

Throw a bit of blood on the boiler, my mouth is dry
We'll watch the sky spit fire, or ease into the rain
Abstract the plain of tongue
Crawl over, roll under
Boys even shit is throwing thunder
So wet the floors of the marketplace
And abstain from making friends

Give the message to the receiver
And see if it appears

• American
• Experimental
• alternative
• bluegrass
• country
• soul
• Brooklyn