Lyrics .38 Airweight - Doomtree

.38 Airweight

Bernie Goetz, I been thinkin bout Bernie Goetz
Bang, hit deck
D.B.
Cooper and EasyJet
Bang, go west find me a place that time forgets
Bang, check out with the best
Get rest in a real way
Hangin off the chain back against the frame off the wall
Cut against the grain rub everything raw call it off
Come and get me mane number still the same give a call
Prolly let it rang playin a different game kill em all
Sinking ships, I’ve been thinking about sinking ships
Big risk, pink slips, point missed
Blame, I’ve been looking for someone to blame
Campaigns, big banks, close aim, point blank, bang
Flag raised out the barrel end reads you can’t win it means you can’t win
Bang, I’ve been looking for a new escape
Probably best if I burrow in opt out not cop out
I’m just trying to carve my slice but the game played is knives out
and there ain’t nowhere hide so I guess it’s time
No more taking the bait straight- laced complacent restraint
Got my wrists bent where they can’t lift up
let me counter with this not with a whimper, with a bang
Bang
Hangin off the chain back against the frame off the wall
Cut against the grain rub everything raw call it off
Come and get me mane number still the same give a call
Prolly let it rang playin a different game kill em all
Yeah, vaguest threats I been thinkin bout Bernie Goetz
Charley Bronson, lay em wet
I been thinkin bout pulling out heart from chest plate, laid waste
I been thinkin bout saving face
I been thinkin my saving grace is claiming spaces and escaping
Slip slip slip in smoke and self-erasing
Not a trace, not a sketch etched in opal, held in place
Bang, I been thinkin bout safe
I been thinkin bout motives
I been runnin in place
Bang
Loaded, I’ve been drinking I’m loaded
consequences eroded, yeah I’m on the fence and they know it
all them politics have been quoted
ain’t gonna call it quits or decode it
alright—all my chips will be thrown in sack of shit, I’m reloaded
Shots ring off in the distance, make no difference
driving in a car but there ain’t no engine on instincts gone, instant song
it’s been a long and winey road
Oh and the bottle’s half gone and the throttle ain’t responding no plans no
land so…
Grown Man Syndrome, ex-Planeteer
you could grow out or grow up, just outlast your peers
and the children of the corn syrup got em by the ears
walk behind the fields, all the dreams reflect your fears
Ain’t nothing else but pull the belt spread the wealth but who dusts the shelf?
Hell to pay but it sells itself
I ordered paradise
Born and raised without the help
Now it’s shorter days, I couldn’t tell flawed in all the ways, bottle holidays
spend some time on myself
Pop quiz hot shot, quick fixer-upper
another notch and lock stock—bang you’s a sucker
Blame it on my nature but I learned it from my mother
tattoos on my hands replace the lines inside my palms, gone
De-anxietized, heavy metal weighted joints play the parts but I’ll pace my
points
back to the crowd and I face the noise
Homebase, chase the ghost, nothing’s never safe
I made a stick into a gun and stared right at the sun
Bang
Hangin off the chain back against the frame off the wall
Cut against the grain rub everything raw call it off
Come and get me mane number still the same give a call
Prolly let it rang playin a different game kill em all