| What do you want? |
| Where do you find it?
|
| You can call it what you will
|
| The sound of heartbreak from a jail cell
|
| Finding work in bar all nights
|
| Jukebox letters and numbers
|
| The burning hearts and starving minds
|
| Souls in pain as if I’m punishment
|
| The ways and needs to survive
|
| There’s a passion that’s put on the line
|
| Money to burn and fortunes to find
|
| Without a claim, without a stake
|
| I’m living only for today
|
| There will be starts, there will be stumbles
|
| Our tongue out on the line to dry
|
| And a piece from wagers of working
|
| And hell breaks loose on Saturday night
|
| Aren’t you happy? |
| The least it’s living
|
| Freedom to choose to stay down
|
| Always a wild wind blowing
|
| Just want a guitar and a radio
|
| In the fields of the valley
|
| The sweet and toil along with the land
|
| No cup of gold, no candy mountain
|
| What better place to make a stand? |