Ballad of a Southern Man - Whiskey Myers

(Going around in circles baby) (And I don't care where I go) I know, I'm going around in circles baby You know, I'm going around in circles Here I go And I don't care where you go I know, I'm going around in circles baby You know I'm going around in circles March 2nd, I was cursed I never felt felt my body hurt I'ma end up in a hearse By March 21st I know, I'm going around in circles baby You know, I'm going around in circles baby I wanna kill myself But I'm too big of a coward I have no self control I have no power You know, I'm going around in circles baby I know, I'm going around in circles baby I owe the government hella cash And I can't get it hella fast They 'gon take it out of my account And I'ma die broke I know, I'm going around in circles baby You know, I'm going around in circles baby I'ma die a broke man Not a cent in my hand 'Cause life ain't fair All kids beware You know, I'm going around in circles baby I know, I'm going around in circles baby I never met another one (Never met another one) And my face 'gon meet this gun (I don't care) And I don't care where I go And I don't care where you from Give me a sign

You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked and you say, "Who is that man?" You try so hard but you don't understand Just what you're gonna say when you get home Something is happening but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You sneak into the window and you say, "Is this where it is?" Somebody points his finger at you and says, "It's his" And you say, "What's mine?", someone else says, "What is?" You say, "Oh my God, am I here all alone?" Something is happening but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You hand in your ticket to go see the geek Who wokes up too when he hears you speak And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?" And you say, "Impossible" as he hands you a bone Something is happening, you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You have many contacts out there among the lumberjacks To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination (imagination) But nobody has any respect, anyway they just expect You to hand up a your check to tax-deductible charity organizations The sword swallower walks up and then he kneels He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels And without further notice asks you how it feels And says, "Here's your throat back, thanks for the loan" Something is happening, you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? You crawn into the room like a camel and you frown You put your eyes in your pocket and you put your nose into the ground There ought to be a law against you comin' around You got to be made to be wearing a telephone Something is happening and you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones? Something is happening here but you don't know what it is Do you, Mr. Jones?

You walk into the room With your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked and you You say, "Who is that man?" You try so hard, but you don't understand Just what you will say when you get home Because something is happening here But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You raise up your head And you ask, "Is this where it is?" And somebody points to you and says, "It's his" And you say, "What's mine?" And somebody else says, "Where what is?" And you say, "Oh, my God, am I here all alone?" But something is happening And you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You hand in your ticket And you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you When he hears you speak And says, "How does it feel to be such a freak?" And you say, "Impossible", as he hands you a bone And something is happening here But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You have many contacts among the lumberjacks To get you facts when someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect Anyway, they already expect you To all give a check to tax-deductible charity organizations Ah, you've been with the professors And they've all liked your looks With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks You've been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald's books You're very well read, it's well known But something is happening here And you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you And then he kneels He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels And without further notice he asks you how it feels And he says, "Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan" And you know something is happening But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Now, you see this one-eyed midget Shouting the word "Now" And you say, "For what reason?" And he says, "How?" And you say, "What does this mean?" And he screams back, "You're a cow" "Give me some milk or else go home" And you know something's happening But you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Well, you walk into the room Like a camel and then you frown You put your eyes in your pocket And your nose on the ground There ought to be a law against you comin' around You should be made to wear earphones 'Cause something is happening And you don't know what it is Do you, Mister Jones?

The moon lights up over the battlefield now, With a blistering heat somehow Lifeless and broken heart to death, They should have just stayed home instead Stayed alive. We'll let her rice We gliss on some others eyes She wonders where when and why She could have tucket him in his bed, With a kiss on the cheek and his head He'd still lay Well the moon and the stars Can't cast shaddows on what is wrong Well my boys are dead, living is lead. Nothing more The sun wakes up, bring sparkles in the morning light, Rubbs a belly bouncer head to cry, She lost him before they were wed But hes there in her heart and her head, hes still alive Well the moon and the stars can't cast shaddows of what is wrong Well my boys are dead, living is lead. Nothing more Oh the moon lights up over the battlefield now.

Gracias a Dios todo va bien, todo se dio El dinero se multiplicó, la pauta también Papi, ¿qué paso? Gracias a Dios todo va bien, todo se dio El dinero se multiplicó, la pauta también Papi, ¿qué paso? La Combi picante El cuello brillante Un culo gigante Los partys de gánsters La Combi picante El cuello brillante Un culo gigante Los partys de gánsters Vesti'o de Gucci con to'os los metales El AP cabrón tú sabes cuánto vale Te los vamos a dar en la cara y en los abdominales Un kilo que entra y otro que sale La tarima con fuegos artificiales Haciendo partys semanales On fire como Jordan en las finales El party prendi'o Los phillies prendi'os El botelleo prendi'o Los culos prendi'os El party prendi'o Los phillies prendi'os El botelleo prendi'o Los culos prendi'os (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) (Bryant Myers, Bryant Myers) La Combi picante El cuello brillante Un culo gigante Los partys de gánsters La Combi picante El cuello brillante Un culo gigante Los partys de gánsters Gracias a Dios todo va bien, todo se dio El dinero se multiplicó, la pauta también Papi, ¿qué paso? Gracias a Dios todo va bien, todo se dio El dinero se multiplicó, la pauta también Papi, ¿qué paso? Negra la careta y la camiseta Negra la fourty y la camioneta Un paso en falso y grabamos tu muerte como los Z Lo que fumamos son moñas crunchies como galleta Cada vez que entramos a la disco las babys se ponen inquietas El party prendi'o Los phillies prendi'os El botelleo prendi'o Los culos prendi'os El party prendi'o Los phillies prendi'os El botelleo prendi'o Los culos prendi'os (Alex Ki) (Alex Killer) (Bryant Ma') (Bryant Myers) (La Oscuridad) (El que pegó el trap) (Ustedes lo saben) La Combi picante El cuello brillante Un culo gigante Los partys de gánsters La Combi picante El cuello brillante Un culo gigante Los partys de gánsters Gracias a Dios todo va bien, todo se dio El dinero se multiplicó, la pauta también Papi, ¿qué paso? Gracias a Dios todo va bien, todo se dio El dinero se multiplicó, la pauta también Papi, ¿qué paso?

I don't mind work and I love to fish I been known as a son of a bitch When life gets tough I roll my sleeves up Yeah, I get it done it's always enough I toil real hard with nothing to show I owe it all to the savings and loan So break our backs and make us slaves All for the love of the USA Times get harder give me a fire starter Drench my self up in holy water Spiritual things the heartland bleeds I need a Bible, a gun and gasoline Ain't nothing much to do in this town The industry's gone and the mill has closed down And up on the hill lives a Jezebel She's got some sin and some pills to sell So no need to lie with your opium eyes When you got a script there's no need to hide Bitch and moan and dance in the street We would rather have bombs then food to eat Times get harder give me a fire starter Drench my self up in holy water Spiritual things the heartland bleeds I need a Bible, a gun and gasoline And you think that you're really gonna make a change Maybe you and I are the ones to blame Times get harder give me a fire starter Drench my self up in holy water Spiritual things the heartland bleeds I need a Bible, a gun and gasoline Times get harder give me a fire starter Drench my self up in holy water Spiritual things the heartland bleeds I need a Bible, a gun and gasoline Gasoline Gasoline Gasoline Gasoline Gasoline