When I don't get nothing back Your teasing ain't enough Fed up of biding your time And for what, and for what, and for what I'm tired of trying Oy, I'm tired Boy I'm tired of trying Hold my hand while you cut me down It had only just begun but now it's

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

I could skate away on Oh I wish I had a river It's coming on Christmas They're cutting down trees They're putting up reindeer And singing songs of joy and peace I wish I had a river I wish I had a river so long I would teach my feet to fly

I felt a stutter and a waiver, cutting like a razor Like fire through the snow, then straight down to the bone She creeps up like a spider, then wants you deep inside her She turns you into stone, a twisted little show That's how it was all to begin,

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Massive addictive Give me purity, strength and affection Give me lust to ignite my devotion for life It's where beauty comes alive Can't you see I'm a slave to the darkness Cutting down And I know I have done this before As I stare into the wall And no

And it was all alright It goes when your gone Now it's all all wrong There's no good reason why I lay my heart on these tracks When your train comes along That's just a-how Then you cut me down

We are the small axe If you are the big tree Sharpened to cut you down Ready to cut you down Shall bury in it, shall bury in it And whosoever diggeth a pit Ready to cut you down (well sharp) Why boasteth thyself Oh, evil men

I got my clique ready ready for hand to hand combo Harms break em down rapper Noyd cut his throat Don swoop em up or Gotti stomp em out Each twin grab a arm pick this nigga up Knitty turn his face to me let me break him up I throw him up against the

Shaped yellow light And it picks you up And cuts you down to size In the painted faces congregate In the mating season The seconds homes They go alone In no rush leave 'em And there's a fountain