The Taxpayers

Lousiana Hot Sauce Rainy Nights

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Been a long, long time;
I have been playing things through in my mind.
Prison equals narrative,
but separation is damnation for our kind.
You spent years chasing after a mess
But easy livin' doesn't pay the rent.
So put stakes in words and wastelands,
leave the machinery for the rest.

It was a smoke-filled room in Columbus in May
Bottles on the ground in a desolate place.
Baby, I must have missed you,
but I can't remember feeling all that sad.
I must have hit every bar in that town.
I must have made a damn fool of myself.
I woke up more than once on the sidewalk that year.

But it's not crazy to gamble
all those Louisiana Hot Sauce rainy nights.
It's not crazy to get your shoes
and just start walking until the sun comes up.
Got miles to go, still miles to get there.
Maybe it'll be this car that makes it.
But I am not an unconditional believer.

I got more pockets than pennies these days
And I keep coming up reasons to leave this place.
It's like honey spilled on the table:
an invitation for another pest.
But I got more space to fill.
A few more breaths to breathe in.

Something other than more time to sleep.

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