AWA

I've Got a Pocketful of Dreams

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Take these silver bullets, I don't need them now Well I ran through this canyon, and they're laying me down Sentimental words are for the pigs and cows We're not allowed to find our fill Killing times were not that bad They kept us locked inside our heads And after beating back the dread We had to laugh cause every grain of sand Had a supporting hand in what was said And I said That you're dead And you deny it Killing floor had metal slabs The blood we lost fell through the cracks The crowd that formed below us clapped Their faces blank, and we just sat in line And thought of better times, before the end Before you left Before you said That you were faking it And then I said You're dead And I said That I was lying too

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