We were brown and we were down We were black and we were slack We are digging us a hole there is nothing in this bowl Same as verse except let open strings sound On the way to Kansas City Tell me who im supposed to be Its raining rain its raining snow tell me where you want to go Break down I don't want to take your call I refuse to climb your wall (guitar 1 comes back in) I don't want to ride your buss I am tired of all of us Durring the second verse, the lead guitar throws in this quick frill Chorus: D, A, E Any comments, requests or corrections. Email to *