It's an old south it's a new union it's an eye for an eye and I'm still shooting. I seen cold roads some paid with glory but I'm too old for your bed time stories. I spent hot nights breath stained with whiskey. Lost somewhere out in mississippi. I won't rest until my breathes are hollow and my spirit is sure to follow. Don't fight em off if they're coming they're about to break the walls and sneak in someday. I could be weak lord scared and running but I'll plant my feet right here I'll stay.