The Fighter, The Rube, The Asshole - The Falcon

Depressed and he sings about whiskey

Deranged and he’s covered in flies

The girls get their bindles delivered from boys on their bikes

And i don’t believe in anyone

And you’re not as hard as you say

You aren’t dying or soaking your soul

Boy, you don’t know shit about shame

You are a beautiful man with guitar covered in glory and love

You’ve never shaken and barfed in your bed even once

I don’t believe you’re a fighter

I don’t believe you’re a rube

I don’t believe in nothing you’re trying to prove

I’m up here dying with headfulls of pills

Fingers of rubber a heartful of chills

Oh?

Somewhere something’s on fire and somewhere a boy’s 'bout to die

Somewhere down in a rathole, they’re praying to come up alive

But this is the part where the pretty ones laugh while they’re pretending to cry

So bang on your drum and raise up your arms to the only god you’ve ever known

But stay the fuck out of my alley.

This is my home

You ain’t nothing but an asshole