Текст (слова) песни: The Badlees - Tore Down Flat In Jackson
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
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
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