Cold Dark Line

I ain't never been nothin' cept somebody's next of kin
I ain't never had nothin' cept an empty well to wish within
All my friends are friends of friends of liars
I'm stuck here spinnin' on an old dirt road as a beat-up, busted old tire

The knife ain't ever gonna be sharp enough to cut me loose
I'm bound up in a freight car headed toward another empty moon
They're laying down pennies and I'm smashing em flat
The iron screaming down the rails never feelin' where it's at

Nothin' to my name and nobody's ever heard it
I'm diggin' for my roots, findin' evidence that someone sold it
I'd rather be a burnout than to never have been lit
The banker's fillin' up his cup and pourin' the rest down his silver drain

The farmer's well been a long time dry
Him and granny praying hard for rain
Too many folks drinkin' credit down
Living on fading borrowed time
What's yours is theirs and the nothin' left is mine

We're all rambling through the boroughs
We're all scraping for a dime
We're all hypocrite evangelists pointing to the sky
Nothing more than civil service prostitutes looking for ride

We're all wasted like a memory
Standing in a cold dark line
Waiting for a handout, thirsty for some wine