Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song This Town Needs Guns, artist - Foxblood. Date of issue: 01.12.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
This Town Needs Guns |
| I never had the patience for guided meditation |
| And I fostered my relations with prescription medication |
| I’ve got Jameson and Codeine sweetly singing me to sleep |
| And I’m not in the mood for company, so would you please just let me be? |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your faith, and pride, and prejudice |
| My vices ain’t my enemies, I’m not proud of them but I’m proud of me |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your god and death and ignorance |
| It must b in our alchemy to bite whatevr hand that feeds |
| Sit and drink and think while you take stock |
| Are you down on your luck or completely fucked? |
| Are you giving in or are you giving up? |
| Ya' got a whole lot of woes in that half-full cup |
| So who’s going to have the all blood on their hands |
| When we manage to fuck up the master plan? |
| I’m not so sure we’ve got this figured out |
| When the bad thoughts come with the creeping doubts |
| I’m not so sure that we have got this figured out |
| When things never were quite as bad as they are now |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your faith, and pride, and prejudice |
| My vices ain’t my enemies, I’m not proud of them but I’m proud of me |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your god and death and ignorance |
| It must be in our alchemy to bite whatever hand that feeds |
| Ya' got to swing back at the heart attack |
| Ya' got 10 years clear, it’ll take you back |
| School shot up on a routine traffic stop |
| Or get your block knocked off in the gridlock |
| Tried to play God but that was no fun, so listen son |
| This town needs guns |
| This town needs guns |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your faith, your pride, your prejudice |
| My vices ain’t my enemies, I’m not proud of them but I’m proud of me |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your god and death and ignorance |
| It must be in our alchemy to bite whatever hand that feeds |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your faith, and pride, and prejudice |
| My vices ain’t my enemies, I’m not proud of them but I’m proud of me |
| Tiptoe along the precipice of your god and death and ignorance |
| It must be in our alchemy to bite whatever hand that feeds |