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
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