So what becomes of the load?
You pin that fucker down,
All the load still remain.
Look to the sky there's a fire,
The hope that summer brings,
Take him down, drag him round.
And it's hard to; win anything on the Jesus wheel
And it's hard for you, to win anything on the Jesus wheel.
And under starlight I will come to life,
I will not tow the line.
And through my blood line,
Out of my mind's I, I will not socialize.
And it's hard to; win anything on the Jesus wheel
And it's hard for you, to win anything on the Jesus wheel.
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