Ain't It Hard

Bobby D, he was mean
He sold guns and guitars
All his shots from the breeze
will be kept in a jar
There’s a feast tonight
with cinnamon and light
Fear is the best man
and death is the bride

Well, days are uncertain
The rains are late
Behind every curtain
a brother might wait
Stealing men is rich
Working man is poor
Hounds lurking in the hills
Better close your door

Ain’t it hard
Home on Saturday night

Richard went to Austin
tryin' to find a band
He returned with nothing
but a shotgun in his hand
She don’t need that pistol
Knives are not her style
She poisons you with kisses
Then kills you with a smile

It’s the night of the Lizard
Slay with yer sword
Drink that muddy water
Play them heavy metal chords
If a call comes from Sisyphus,
please let it ride
Judy is a punk
I’m gonna meet her one more time

Ain’t it hard
Home on Saturday night

Ain’t it hard
not to cuss, not to fight, not to kill
If the devil won’t have you
and you don't know who will

© 2010