Lower Forty Eight

Heading into town on the weekends
Two day and a pocket of pay
Once it’s been spent won’t quite know where it went
But we will know that it went away

Carousing and cruising for bruisings
We take every dare from the air
Find our last hope at the end of our rope
By beating the battle lines bare

Saying goodby to the high country
Saying hello to the low
Great Gravitas has us fast by the ass
Heading downhill in full tow

Dining and dancing with demons
Delivering dark dreary death
Breathing in sins through our old twisted grins
But we’re borrowing every breath


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