| Muthafuckas won’t shut up
|
| We been in a war my god
|
| Some country shit won’t cut it
|
| He need a blues he could plug in
|
| Muthafuckas like him now
|
| He give 'em something to cry about
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| Permission to feel again
|
| He used to play and everybody said
|
| Everybody said
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| He can shake the fire out
|
| He can shake the fire out
|
| He can shake the fire out
|
| He can shake the fire out
|
| He can shake the fire out
|
| He can shake the fire out
|
| He can shake the fire out
|
| He can shake the fire out
|
| Ah…
|
| Oh you stole my name
|
| Now you’re just a phony
|
| You shootin' for the stars
|
| I’d rather stay muddy
|
| They can study my fingers
|
| They can mirror my pose
|
| They can talk your good ear off
|
| On what they think they know
|
| They think they know
|
| They say now more than ever
|
| I think they forget
|
| What our history is
|
| What we do, what we made
|
| We can shake the fire out
|
| We can shake the fire out
|
| We can shake the fire out
|
| We can shake the fire out
|
| They try to shake a fire out
|
| They can’t shake the fire out
|
| We can shake the fire out
|
| They can’t shake the fire out
|
| Ah…
|
| Like me?
|
| Like me?
|
| Like me?
|
| Oh no
|
| Like me?
|
| Like me?
|
| Like me?
|
| Oh oh not like me |