A meshed stick, a hooven leg; killers
They kick up dirt all day long
Bound by PVC fencing or white lines on a well-manicured field
And I just think all hot day long about how much I hate sweat and grime
It is vile and violent and droll
Pay to watch skulls pound together and ribs get crushed 7.9 seconds in
Just one more second. Just one last hit.
And I'll be through.
And sometimes you wonder why you didn't pick up a real skill
You could have lived a lie of a life
Bought a ticket once a year
But that man isn't here
Pull that string tight, clench that jaw
You have to cowboy up
You are not allowed to lie on the field and die
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