Bullets, Booze And Body Bags.

Changing up timelines with her thunderstick.

Break a family unit, do it gun-smoke quick.

Bag a little whine at a sliding safety click.

This is just my job man, I ain’t sick.

Me? I’m just a number.

Just a finger on a trigger.

Scared of the darkness, ya.

Noises make me bigger.

I am here to help you.

Don’t you go away.

Cause every running back I see

Makes the boom-boom play okay.


Richard Thompson – Dad’s Gonna Kill Me. Shrewsbury Folk Festival 2008



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