- Buck 65 50 Gallon Drum 歌詞
- Buck 65
- My idea of heaven, I enjoy the fixing of a flat tire
I like art made of garbage, a little pain is good for you
I dont want everything to be made easy for me
Fast aint always better than slow you know
A home run every time would start to get boring after a while
I hope I never forget how to bleed
Static fuzz, hiss, its just the thing sometimes
50 gallon drum , thats what Im talking about
Give me a hundred bucks to work on your bike
And maybe Ill cut your hair for you while Im at it
I wanna work, Im ready, I wanna take my baby dancing
Scary movies on Monday morning, chopping some wood, wind in my tires
Chocolate chip cookies, rain in the window, its the underneath of Paris
Its New York from the back, Mount Uniacke in the fall
In a moment between heartbeats Ill set fire to the sky
Or cut the devils throat
Im three for four with a double and two stolen bases
Having my picture taken with the Amazing Creskin
Its a shiny day and the ******* smells like strawberries
I found a shoebox filled with viewmaster reels
I dont have to cut my hair or do math ever again if I dont want to
Tell the bounty collectors to kiss my ass
Im a hunter gatherer surveying the junk yards
Warrior monk with a month long bus pass
Odd job casanova, I write nothing down and keep my clothes in a guitar case
I run with bulls and swim with the pool sharks
Perfection is a place where there are two for one milkshakes on Tuesdays
It's where you can pay for a room with your good looks
The ball parks are always busy and the umpires always make the right call
Everyday is halloween and people use plastic Christmas trees
They fight with their fists and go to drive-in movies
Theres no such thing as luck or the dentist and shoes dont hurt your feet
I keep a lighter and dog treats
In my pockets at all times because you never know
Ive got a Saint Francis of Assisi keychain
And a wallet made of Corinthian leather
Sometimes I drive all night and listen to talk radio
Sometimes I practice scratching for hours on end
Usually I sit in my window and listen to my tapes, Ive got all kinds of tapes
Hugs and kisses, and treats in a bag
In paradise a buck will buy you a comic book, a soda and a candy bar
You can always find a place to park or to hide
The DJs only play originals and the theatres still have silver screens
And Buster Keaton matinees
Im an outlaw faith healer, with sock monkeys for the kids
Im the ringmaster-king of the convenience store parking lot
My show is an every man for himself freak fest
Pack a lunch and ask for Johnny Rockwell
Here your favorite pen works forever but memory parallax
Its 70s doing 20s, 50s doing 2000
Everyones got their own arrow and there aint no short handled shovels
Its under my pillow, its tomorrow and the next day
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