Bloodsimple - Whiskey Bent And Hellbound lyrics | LyricsFreak
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Whiskey Bent And Hellbound Lyrics

Bloodsimple – Whiskey Bent And Hellbound Lyrics

Lookin' out upon the highway, already 250 miles gone.
I take my first taste of freedom and I've never felt so alive. Yeah.

And out of the corner of my eye I see a woman,
Well she was more radiant than I ever could have imagined.
And she was singing: "what's wrong with you!"

What is the problem with drinking whiskey and smoking weed.
Live within the system, if you don't like it then fucking leave.

Well get me back, get me back on the road.
I met the devil and I sold my soul.
'Cause everything and everyone is old. (hey hey hey)
I cut my lung out, I need a fix.
You're my puzzle and my pieces fit
'Cause everything and everyone is old. (hey hey hey)
The nights in the desert paint pictures that aren't always what they seem.
The dust kicking up all around, it makes this shit come on like a whirl wind.
And she stands up on the hood of my car
And she screams to all my team and says: "MURDERER!"

I wanna see chaos, wanna see victims be one with the pain.
The power of our redemption supresses the memories of tragedy.

Oh, give me what I need.
Let me drift away.

Where are the troubles, all my troubles are so far away.

Well get me back, get me back on the road.
I met the devil and I sold my soul.
'Cause everything and everyone is old. (hey hey hey)
I cut my lung out, I need a fix.
You're my puzzle and my pieces fit
'Cause everything and everyone is old. (hey hey hey)
Well get me back, get me back on the road.
I met the devil and I sold my soul.
'Cause everything and everyone is old. (hey hey hey)
I cut my lung out, I need a fix.
You're my puzzle and my pieces fit
'Cause everything and everyone is old. (hey hey hey)
Everyone is so comprimised, that they will never be (the chosen ones)

You all feel like you've been put down. You've all been fuckin' compromised. You've all been sold. Your soul is ruined.

How does it feel to be numbered? And to be one in a million? Just another statistic in failure.

Once again you are compromised, enslaved, spineless. Cut off from something else, someone else. Living off somebody else's dream. Somebody else's hard work. The one that compromised.

How does it feel? How does it feel to be numbered?
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