Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Meth Head, artist - Ian Noe.
Date of issue: 30.05.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Thirty Tigers
Song language: English
Meth Head |
I saw him down in a dump |
Hurlin' armloads of junk |
Into a pickup bound for the yard |
He was skittish and strange |
Like a wild dog with mange |
And there was was blood where his veins ran hard |
Wadin' deep through the grime |
He found a long copper line |
And he jumped up and leaped to the ground |
And you’d thought he’d struck gold |
The way he kicked and he rolled |
And like a bandit he tore outta town |
Oh, now |
He’s out on the prowl |
You’d better get up and go back inside |
'Cause he’s loose on the land |
Gettin' all that he can |
And there won’t be nowhere to hide |
Yeah, he’s crawling his way |
To that fix for the day |
You won’t stop him, he’s bent to be fed |
He’s the low heathen kind |
With a shit-mingled mind |
The desperate fuckin' meth head |
There was a girl, tall and thin |
With scabbed yellow skin |
Outside a rest stop I won’t soon forget |
She was digging at a rash |
Trying to deal for some cash |
Saying, «Baby, I’m clean and I’m wet» |
I just kept pacing by |
Swattin' through the flies |
And her stench, rancid and stout |
While she stood there cryin' «Please!» |
With her fist between her knees |
And the sores drainin' 'round her mouth |
Oh, now |
She’s out on the prowl |
You’d better get up and go back inside |
'Cause she’s loose on the land |
Gettin' all that she can |
And there won’t be nowhere to hide |
Yeah, she’ll bum and she’ll beg |
And she’ll gnaw at your leg |
You can’t kill her, she’s already dead |
She’s the empty-eyed soul |
The zombie-like fool |
The fiendin' fuckin' meth head |
It’ll be dark pretty soon |
They love to lurk by the moon |
So I’m out back shovelin' the dirt |
I’m gonna dig me a hole |
As deep as I can go |
And when they fall I’m gonna cover 'em up |
Oh, now |
They’re out on the prowl |
You’d better get up and go back inside |
'Cause they’re sweeping the land |
Gettin' all that they can |
And there won’t be nowhere to hide |
They’ve got the taste on their tongues |
Their fates have been hung |
It’s a fever that’s already spread |
From out far and wide |
They’re the fit-to-be-tied |
The worthless fuckin' meth heads |