I'm so sick of writing
songs about screwing up
no matter how much i fall down,
it seems it's never enough
no matter how much good luck
throws itself my way,
i find some way to ruin it;
fall down again the next day
Road rashed, run down, wrinkled from the rain
the song in my heart makes just one sound,
but i sing along just the same
and i wonder how long i'll hang around
before i go insane
before i break down
and get gone again
put myself on trial again for crimes i couldn't see
my naked aggression was picked up on a charge of indecency
and i remember how i felt when first it exposed itself to me
and pray for forgiveness, and a sympathetic jury
Road rashed, run down, wrinkled from the rain
the song in my heart makes just one sound,
but i sing along just the same
and i wonder how long i'll hang around
before i go insane
before i break down
and get gone again
And it makes no difference
what you thought you came here for
any plans that you might have had; swept right out the door
and it makes no difference how hard you think you've tried,
cause what you'll find out in the end is that its just a lie
there've been girls that loved me,
but i cheated on them,
with a woman named whiskey,
and gin, her best friend
Their affections flow like liquid
to a thousand other men,
who'll trade loving for liquor;
salvation for sin
road rashed, run down, wrinkled from the rain
the song in my heart makes just one sound,
but i sing along just the same
and i wonder how long i'll hang around
before i go insane
before i break down
and get gone again