Gothic Americana Music



Oooh wee, well here comes trouble
With a capital T
I’ve got no complex for a savior
Just need a little sympathy

There ain’t no use in sugar-coating
Try some accountability
You keep expecting a different outcome
Well, that’s insanity

Don’t tell me it’s wine and roses
What rose smells like that?
Keep trying to take the high road
And shit’s gonna get bad

You’re sounding more like a broken record
With every insincere speech
You only offer empty promises
You never intend to keep

You’ve got me used to disappointment
This song and dance ain’t nothing new
Won’t even have your come to Jesus if
Your ass gets handed to you


After I'm Gone






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