The J. Arthur Keenes Band old dusty

Riding into town
You see the faces
And everyone's a frown
And it just makes you wanna say
Well, I hope you all drown
We've walked for too long
Too many paces
Too many ways we could take
Too many lugs thrown out the door
Oh, what's it all for?
Listen to the sound
The aching traffic
And footsteps on the ground
I think my headache threw away
Something just cracked like an egg
Take a look around
These people aren't your friends
Everyone can hear you
But no one's listening anymore
It's become a fucking chore