The Pinkerton Thugs

Another Story

The Pinkerton Thugs


This story starts out spray painted on a wall
Its been there for decades
As the cigarette burns the world still turns
While the vodka numbs the pain

And everyone's got a sob story
And the sigh is always the same
When you turn out the pockets of your dirty jeans
And find two bucks to your name
And everyone's got somewhere to go
And got somethin' to do
I watch you millin' around all over this town
While i kick a stone or two

These six strings can be bullets if ya got something to say
And if ya make a living off of telling them off
Then I'd say you won the game
Well just about four years ago there was no one to be found
Now theres anger in four hundred eyes and fresh boots on the ground

Now this story ends spray painted on a wall
Its still there to this day
You pass it on your way to work
As the paint it starts to fade
No one is givin' nothin' there ain't one damn thing for free
So spring to life like a switchblade knife, its time they started to bleed
Another story, out with the old, in with the new, hope and glory

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