Aaaoow.
Aaaoow!
Aaaoow!
Soooo.
Miiiine.
Just a nail through the barrel of my gun
Not the first time they don't see
{Stabbed/Stared}(?) down through the barrel of this gun
The west coast
The east coast freight train
Pull me up through the barrel of my gun
Not the third time a-they don't see
{Stabbed/Stared}(?) down through the barrel of that gun
The west coast
The east coast freight train
And all these walls, all these mountains
And all these minds are filled with pain.
Aaaoow.
Aaaoow.
Sooooo.
Miiine.
Wheels spinning on the echo of this ground.
Twelve days until we don't see
Wheel's never thought {of}(?) turning on my ground.
the west coast
the east coast freight train.
wheel's burning on the echo of your ground.
45 is what we don't {see/say}(?)
wheel's never thought to turn on your ground.
the west coast
the east coast freight train
and all these wall, all these mountains
and all these minds are fucking {vain}(?)
you're turning blue, what you're facing
and what you say is fucking true.
aaaaah.
aaaaah.
sooooo.
