Tore Down Flat In Jackson Lyrics

Tore Down Flat In Jackson lyrics

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