kill me i need the rest
put me out of misery
whole jungle on my shoulders my back's gonna break
i'm a slowe for the gow
slave labor to slave
and drag around
needle's broken in the ditch of burned out veins
i point out the problem three fingers point at me
i'm a slowe for the gow/ for the gow for the gow
slave labor to slave/ i drag myself around
i can't live without the thought of something killing me
service for the sick a minute takes a month
service for the sick in the heat of a cold sweat
for the gow, for the gow
i won't put my shovel down
for the gow, for the gow
i cannot be found
i keep working to get well i guess i never will
no more grass from shanty town i graduated to the gow
to the gow
to the gow
i'm a slowe for the gow
slave labor to slave
for the gow, for the gow
drag myself around |