Handguns

Anvil

Handguns


Fifty-two bricks stared me dead in the face
While this anvil hung above my head patiently waiting
There's nothing left for us in Denver tonight
Let's finish up the drive
And scrape up the rest of our lives
Feeling nauseous at the thought of trying to rebuild
But it's all that we know and there's a debt to kill
So much encouragement leaves us
Thinking we could be the ones

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