Young Jeremiah at the age of 16 decided to leave home and go follow a dream A life of peace and an absence of walls, a lack of taxes and running from the law. Well he grew up fast and very educated from living off the land that no man ever created. Spoke words of wisdom and never lacked fun, this is Jeremiah at the age of 21. If you get the chance spill a 40 for Jeremiah And if you get the chance steal a 40 for me If you get the chance spill a 40 for Jeremiah And if you get the chance steal a 40 for me Young Jeremiah worked his hands to the bone, the consumption of alcohol he never did condone, till one day he decided that he should go home, no more friends and family so now he's all alone. Completely forgot what he was looking for, so he picked up a gun and decided to go to war, and into his soul the images they tore, and he didn't want to kill anyone anymore. He finally decided that he should get discharged, they wouldn't let him leave so he hopped on a barge. He was tired of taking orders, of his own life he'd take charge. Got home, and bought some whiskey, and started hopping on boxcars. If you get the chance spill a 40 for Jeremiah And if you get the chance steal a 40 for me If you get the chance spill a 40 for Jeremiah And if you get the chance steal a 40 for me Jeremiah kept on learning as the years went by, but he also kept on drinking because his liver hadn't died. On the nights that he got wasted all he ever did was cry, and on the nights that he was sober he just wanted to die. Our paths had crossed he was a hermit of a man, but he was so damn wasted that he could barley stand. I asked him for his name but I could not understand, as they days kept passing they grew less and less bland. Eventually he grew sober and shared his knowledge with me poor Jeremiah at the age of 43. He told me his life story with one foot in the grave, and said the meaning of life was to never be enslaved. If you get the chance spill a 40 for Jeremiah And if you get the chance spill a 40 for me If you get the chance spill a 40 for Jeremiah And if you get the chance spill a 40 for me

I don't care what remains unsettled, or what the pot calls the kettle, or that I cut your brake lines so you can be "heavy metal". Do you care about your paycheck, because I don't care about mine. The more paper in front of your face, well the more makes it you blind. Fuck Jesus Christ, what has he ever done for me? And fuck Satan and religion because it leads to insanity. Innocent children are dying, but their voices can't be heard chemical testing leads to sickness that we blame on pigs and birds. So come and test our product that has cancerous reactions, whether or not it actually works you'll be paying for satisfaction. I say the only solution is to take direct action, but what the hell do I know because my whole world is crashing, I'll be a father though the mother wants to remain separated and it sucks because I don't know the fate of what we have created and my friends are getting kicked out of there house because they're hated by their sexist thug neighbors, and the cops who have debated, whether or not we're terrorists for helping those who cannot speak, the ones that have been walked on for too long and been called weak. It's bullshit the path that history takes just to repeat, but no one realizes there are ghosts under are sheets. Innocent animals are mutilated by cosmetics and products, while they're getting abused for nothing their oppressors make profits. There's more prisoner than cops, most of which were dealing drugs, most of which was marijuana which is grown with care and love, while alcohol's still legal causing violence back at home with father who hate their children, beat their wives, and break their bones. The people have spoken it's time to pay for your convictions, but you set limitations so the people have restrictions. People are slaves to televisions, and good looks,. Children hating caring parents for not using their checkbooks to buy them ferraris or give them million dollar loans, so they can get cosmetic surgery to look like ambercrombie clones. So don't blame me for speaking my mind I speak out against business because business is crime, and fuck problems, yours and mine too, if we don't take action then there's nothing we can do.

I see faces buried under junk, places where the houses sunk, mutations from radiation, dead bodies inside trunks, lakes of toxic spills, evolution done though pills and people running through cities like rats and when they aim they aim to kill. I am a flea and so are my kind, the ones that think with legitimate minds, who are unique like finger prints, or rocks inside of a mine. With the whole world out to exterminate those who think and are free to create it's to simplistic for you to debate so grab a rock and defend your fate. Burn it down now, throw the cocktails from the roof. Keep your heads down for when the rats decide to shoot, and keep low profile, because they kill all of those who pollute, the process of thought, but we'll die where we fought are fossils lie as proof, lies for proof. I am a stranger to those who never opened their eyes. I am familiar to the world behind the blinds, and I'll fit into the cracks that have slowly been made with time, and fill of your crevices and synapses just like slime. And all the wolves come baring there teeth, when we bared gifts but now we're sheep. Sacrifices kept hush and clean to fit like cogs inside the machine. Burn it down now, throw the cocktails from the roof. Keep your heads down for when the rats decide to shoot, and keep low profile, because they kill all of those who pollute, the process of thought, but we'll die where we fought are fossils lie as proof, lies for proof. Barbed wire lacerations used to bandaged fractured nations. Guilty by affiliation with people who show hesitation to the practice we've become accustomed, circuitry in which we function. Get off right before the junction of salvation and destruction. Broken knuckles, knees will buckle when we start to laugh and chuckle at the tubes we used to suckle when we were masses meant for shackles. Set fires to CEO's the traps are set, the rats will go. Eventually truth shows it's face, when lies are gone and proof takes it's place. Burn it down now, throw the cocktails from the roof. Keep your heads down for when the rats decide to shoot, and keep low profile, because they kill all of those who pollute, the process of thought, but we'll die where we fought are fossils lie as proof, lies for proof.

With one bottle of water and another full of whiskey. Five cigarettes left in my pack and I wonder if you miss me. My thumb is sore my feet still hurt, but all of this is what it's worth. I got one hundred miles till I get to the next state. Trucks, cars and interstates. Cops and people running late. It seems as though no body want to give you a goddamn ride, but if you're lucky, which you are, somebody just might stop their car, give you food and pepsi cans, cigarettes and garbage bags. With one bottle of water and another full of whiskey. Five cigarettes left in my pack and I wonder if you miss me. My thumb is sore my feet still hurt, but all of this is what it's worth. I got one hundred miles till I get to the next state. Spange for change and dumpsterdive. Do what you will to make it by. If you're lucky you'll get some cash. You've walked a while so rest your back. Don't you listen to the stupid shit, that passer by's tend to cuss and spit. Keep on walking down that road till you're puking on your friends couch. With one bottle of water and another full of whiskey. Five cigarettes left in my pack and I wonder if you miss me. My thumb is sore my feet still hurt, but all of this is what it's worth. I got one hundred miles till I get to the next state.

I have no Idea where the hell I'm going to go, but I know that I will keep on drinking till this liver turns to gold, and everyone says my Midas touch leaves your shoulders cold. You keep trying to escape this place but you're stuck in a hole between a shelf filled with lies, and also filled with ties that have been cut from all those lives I hold, and these tongues are forked, which makes it hard to believe everything I've every told you, so... I cannot wait until this world dissipates, I cannot wait until I wash my hands of all this blood and hate, and all I fucking know is it leaves a god damn horrible taste that we destroy everything that we create. And everything that you hold dear will probably fade away, or be blown up by an atom bomb, or left as a fossil. They might say you will probably be held right behind that cell, but if you're not that's okay because life's still a living hell, and everyone knows that no matter what effort you put down will never be found because the outcome isn't there, no one really cares, the whole world doesn't care.

I smoke cigarettes when I'm hungry, dig through trash cans just to eat, and before I go to bed every night I laugh myself to sleep. I wash my hands off in this river and I've got an angry liver, but if there's one thing that I know for sure there's beauty on these streets, well if there's one thing that I know for sure there's beauty on these streets. I take my whiskey with my coffee, Vodka with tomato juice, and I'll sit in a squat making homebrew with sarsaparilla root. I take my rum with my coke, sidewalk slams when I'm broke, and if I need to get some drugs I'll bum myself a smoke. I smoke cigarettes when I'm hungry, dig through trash cans just to eat, and before I go to bed every night I laugh myself to sleep. I wash my hands off in this river and I've got an angry liver, but if there's one thing that I know for sure there's beauty on these streets, well if there's one thing that I know for sure there's beauty on these streets. Eyes looking out, but never in. I keep on walking these white lines till eventually they fade thin. And I think about the good times that have gone wrong, but that's okay because if i grow hungry again I guess I'll sing this song. I smoke cigarettes when I'm hungry, dig through trash cans just to eat, and before I go to bed every night I laugh myself to sleep. I wash my hands off in this river and I've got an angry liver, but if there's one thing that I know for sure there's beauty on these streets, well if there's one thing that I know for sure there's beauty on these streets.

Be wary of my face, because I'm coming for you, be wary of the hands tear your life in two. Goodbye to this lovely face. Goodbye to this hell ridden place. Goodbye to all of those who can never abide by the things of which we're ignorant, we'll just sit here and lie in pain, I can never change, in hate, I can never change, I can never, I can never change! Where the hell do I just go from here. I don't think I have a chance to chose. Well I don't know if I can see unless I really wanted too, but I've thrown all my ambition to the wind. A half cup of open dreams and then I drown them down in hefty 40, or gin, oh lord and 211 thank god that I will never get to fuckin' heaven. Oh, Oh lord, please bury me soft, Oh, Oh lord now

These vicious streets where hell and earth meet, where the bottle runs dry, but the bottle runs deep, leaves one breathless as the people grow restless, leave a gash on this earth an ever lasting impression. You settled in all are welcome and this may be true, but now you've overstayed so you're paying your dues. Running water with a hint of gasoline a city built up on hopes but runs on broken dreams. So hold on, even if you can't anymore, and just try a little bit harder then before, and eventually you just might find, you can say goodbye to city when the bottle runs dry, runs dry. Frustration and anguish lick the back of your neck, the devil's hot on your trail with a debt to collect. These bones grow tired and there's no time to rest, and all the teachings you've heard grow harder to ingest. It's too much to bare, you need to be soothed, so here's a shot for your worries and another for you blues. Here's a pint for your sorrows, another for your pain, here's a whole half gallon that's left your name. Sail the seven seas with eyes that can't see. The demons are gone but they sure as hell won't let you be you've rid of your cage, and you spread your wings, but those wings have been clipped so you're not truly free. Start you life with an engine that's clean, but as the years pass by you grow tired and mean. A respectable being with a job and a home, but now you speak about life with a dark undertone, complaining "My baby left me and I ain't get no respect, I look back n my life but that mirror never reflects. All I hold dear, there's nothing left to protect, and it's too late now for me to try and correct. Mice among people, trash among men, I used to have a status, but no my patience wore it thin. Life smacked me hard in the face and the world's still in spin there ain't no use in repenting because being born was a sin." So heed these words because they just might keep you afloat, take life one bite at a time or you just might choke. I don't want to hear it oh hell no, because there's no use in trying to fix it, because you just can't fix what's broke. Cant fix, can't fix what's broke

Hop inside this dumpster and found a bountiful feast, filled with greens and many thing I intend to cook and eat, and if this could be my home my mansion on the streets, then I'd be evicted every trash day and that happens twice a week Let's go pop a soda inside of a 24 pack. Don't get caught with what you're doing because it'll be hard when we come back with, black hoodies and cardboard boxes that we intend to fill, with all the seals that we have broken on the juices spices and vitamin pills. Hop inside this dumpster and found a bountiful feast, filled with greens and many thing I intend to cook and eat, and if this could be my home my mansion on the streets, then I'd be evicted every trash day and that happens twice a week Go home it's time to start cooking stir fry and garlic bread. Lots of garlic, and lots of spices, lots of people left to be fed. Find clothes over at the goodwill give 'em out when we feed and from our liberated jugs we've got the wine that tastes so sweet. Looks like we got caught doing, what they said should not be done. Just remember there's a lot more dumpsters, and a lot more fun. Avoid Johnny Law/Mr. Flatfoot/coppers, or else we'll wind up in cuffs, but I don't think that's a problem because I'm pretty sure we have enough Hop inside this treasure chest and found a bountiful feast, filled with greens and many thing I intend to cook and eat, and if this could be my home my mansion on the streets, then I'd be evicted every trash day and that happens twice a week

With eyes so new and a head so cold, on their shoulders is where you walk, and those stories still grow old. You can watch as the sky changes, till it runs red just like rust, and everything's the same here, there ain't no one you can trust. With tongues that are forked, they're cover with mold, and they got skinny fingers that will rip you to the bone with cats eyes in every wall you walk past, you wonder if you have been walking way too fast, till you leave it behind. I'm in a wasteland. I'm in a wasteland. With water that smells as if though someone threw uranium bombs in the pipes, and your head feel s as if though it's coming apart, as if someone were ticking inside it every night, and all I know is that I wish I could leave, but goddamn if I could, and all I know is I'm still coughing up blood as keep picking out from these bones, broken pieces of wood, you can tell me that you sure know that I'm up to know good, and I keep walking through life so misunderstood, I'm tired of these wastelands, I'm tired of walking the wasteland I'm in the wasteland.

You can't change what's inevitable, it pulls on you like a big black hole. You know you're just a commodity or at least that's what you're born to be. You can't change what's hard wired even if you had the chance, unfortunately you're just like us a victim of circumstance. Cash is just a fuel to the disease and we all pay as one entity. We all sing songs of anarchy and refuse pay because rent is free. And I refuse to be held over, and so do a select few. We don't take kind to being robbed, or being told what to do. Who are you to say we'll grow hungry, to exterminate people like rats? I think that we have a choice and I'll gladly stand for that (stand for freedom of choice). I am not a bank account, and I am not a machine. I am some one who breathes, and who thinks, and knows following their dreams, while inside their dreams. People are sick of the treatment, of being told they're protected, but then we're "courteously" tossed aside when they that we've been growing defective. I have a heart and I have a soul, It's a struggle we all face as a whole You can shift one domino right out of place, doesn't change the fact that we're all last place in this rat race that we run everyday.