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I made 50 bucks a week moppin' the floors
Moved washers and dryers to keep room and board
Lost and dejected - spent most of my nights gettin' high
My friends were all convicts (Hell - they'd say the same)
We got tossed out of bars and cuffed in the rain
With the crackwhores and heads
But no smokin' gun
In the Taillights of Dixie - on the outskirts of old Baton Rouge
Drunk and disorderly surely ain't no way to die
And if that which don't kill me
Can only make me stronger...
Then why am I still Alive?
Then I woke up one morning
Face in the floor
With a 'nine' in my hand and a hole in the door
With nothing lef to live for - nothing left to prove
I went looking for Jesus (He was looking for me too)
So we smoked my last cigarette
Told him the truth...
Of the crackwhores and heads
But no smokin' gun
In the Taillights of Dixie on the outskirts of old Baton Rouge
Drunk and disorderly surely ain't no way to die
And if that which don't kill me
Can only make me stronger...
Then why am I still Alive?
I made 50 bucks a week moppin' the floors
Moved washers and dryers to keep room and board
With the crackwhores and heads
But no smokin' gun
In the Taillights of Dixie - on the outskirts of old Baton Rouge
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