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The Badlees - Tore Down Flat In Jackson lyrics
Filthy and anonymous in Jackson, a dozen keys to nowhere in his hand 
 Black madonna, won't you change his luck and find him fifty grand? 
 'Cause he's tore down, months from nowhere, with the day-to-day out of his hands 
 One key fit the door to their apartment, another fit the business he let die 
 A stray dog whines as the August rains turn naked ground to mud 
 And he's tore down, feelin' nothin' but the third-rate spirits in his blood 
 He's livin' for a ticket on the whiskey train 
 The saddest thing's to see him venerate that ball and chain 
 The Badlees - Tore Down Flat In Jackson - http://motolyrics.com/the-badlees/tore-down-flat-in-jackson-lyrics.html
 Roadhouse corn done cut his strings to somewhere, paper rich done met a ball of fire 
 Black dog cloud done filled his head and drained him like a vampire 
 Now he's tore down flat in Jackson with a daily gig in the backdrop choir 
 He's livin' for a ticket on the whiskey train 
 The saddest thing's to see him venerate that ball and chain 
 A thick late August field of pigweed dances, a T.V. from the fillin' station's heard 
 He's holdin' up the wall, the moment says it all without a word 
 Well, he's tore down, world stopped movin' when 'halfway to the label' claimed it cured









