Until Morale Improves, The Beatings Will Continue

I walked the road
from Tucson to San Antonio
with the smell of blood on my breath.
Ninety days of sweat and dirt
feels like one night
when you've got nothin left.

Till there's nothin left to do but die.
Buckshot is my bread
and I'll drink whiskey instead of water
cause I can't stand to be sober in this place.
Your hands on my face
every step of the way
trying to peel away the pain.

Well...
Buckshot is my bread
and I'll drink whiskey instead of water
cause I can't stand to be sober in this place.
Your hands on my face
every step of the way
trying to peel away the pain.

I'll drink whiskey instead of water
I'll drink whiskey instead of water
I'll drink whiskey instead of water
I'll drink whiskey instead of water