brother in the night

Singer:weeks, the

well i trace shapes in clouds and i saw things i never seen

we move like renegades down in the states

reload that magazine

almost killed us in that city it was far to close to call

so we put money in the bags

ripped wanted posters off the wall

say i'm wanted for a murder of a man i never seen

they say i shot him dead

one to his head

somewhere in holly springs

i may have killed a man before not the one that they exclaim

they'll see the barrel of my gun before they ever see me hang

oh if my southern heart's still pumping blood

still pumping blood

well i'll bury my money in the mighty mississippi mud

oh and if my southern lungs won't let me breath

won't let me breath

well i'll wait for the cicadas and i'll let them push it out for me

well death is always close

there's always vultures on my trail

and the inside of this hotel's better than a prison cell

well that southern whiskeys stinging singing words upon my breath

i was worried 'bout forgetting so i tattooed it on my chest

i'm a southern man forever like the wind inside the pines

and my grandpa used to sing it oh to my brother and i

how i wish could get back the precious thoughts and newer skin

and we scurried out the window before the cops they busted in

oh if my southern hearts still pumping blood

still pumping blood

well i'll bury my money in the mighty mississippi mud

oh and if my southern lungs won't let me breath

won't let me breath

well i'll wait for the cicadas and i'll let them push it out for me

we were messengers for millions

we're a midnight masquerade

we can walk away form all this as the town goes up in flames

as civilians in a war we can die right were we live

you can walk away from all this go back home to see your kids

i've got a knife inside my boot

yes my brother's got one too

we can bring 'em all

let's have a ball

i've got nothing to lose

i got hearts and bended knees that shake no one that can see

no one here was coming faster

no one there will bother me

oh if my southern hearts still pumping blood

still pumping blood

well i'll bury my money in the mighty mississippi mud

oh and if my southern lungs won't let me breath

won't let me breath

well i'll wait for the cicadas and i'll let them push it out for me