Whiskey For The Soul And Iron For The Hands

I've used your trust for target practice,
I used your lust to fulfill mine.

The buzzards pick at names I used to know.
But my path is set and I will die alone!
You should have ran me out when you had the chance!
But now I'm here to stay

The man in black said boy don't take your guns to town,
But I've never been one to listen to reason,
This heart, these hands of treason.
I gave my soul to this steel,
Because a dead man feels no guilt.
Gave purpose to the lifeless,
To fill what can't be filled

I'll peak through broken fingers,
Attempt to slant my view
Amazed by their indifference,
Though I knew just what they'd do
They'll leave a hole in your chest
Before they lay you to rest

This town will never be the same

I've used your trust for target practice,
I used your lust to fulfill mine.

But I'm not ready
To take the credit for the work that they've done
The work that they've done
It was the guns, it was the guns,
So wipe their stain from off my hands and see what they have done.

It was the guns, it was the guns,
So wipe their stain from off my hands and see what they have done.

I can feel them start to betray
I can feel them start to aim this way