And you're lying in the rain
And they ask you how you're doing
Of course you'll say you can't complain
Like the pockets of the new world kings
Like swollen stomachs in Appalachia
Like the priest that fucked you as he whispered holy things🎶
Like the pockets of the new world kings
Like swollen stomachs in Appalachia
Like the priest that fucked you as he whispered holy things🎶