Belly Fulla Whiskey

from by Wasted Theory

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    6 panel full color insert with artwork by Alexander Von Weiding
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lyrics

I’m heading southbound, with the windows cracked.
Ten pounds of cocaine, strapped in the back.
The sirens screaming, I’m on the line.
This twelve gauge shotgun, he’s a friend of mine.
High speed and dirt roads, the gallows pole.
The preachers daughter, she’s bought and sold.
C’mon little darlin’, C’mon little tease.
C’mon and get down on your knees.

Gun fire.
Bang bang.
I’m headed straight to the promised land.
Live Wire.
Goddamn.
I’m headed straight for the promised land.

The clock is tickin’, there’s no time to waste.
I gotta get the fuck out of this place.
The snakes are crawling, sun’s going down.
Just take a hit now, and then pass around.
That train’s a rollin’, she’s movin on.
All I’ve got now, is this drinking song.
C’mon little darlin’, C’mon little tease.
C’mon and get down on your knees.

Gun fire.
Bang bang.
I’m headed straight to the promised land.
Live Wire.
Goddamn.
I’m headed straight for the promised land.

credits

from Defenders of the Riff, released October 30, 2016

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Wasted Theory Delaware

American Weed Rock
Est. 2012

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