Son of a Gun

He woke up with the red ass
We tippy-toed every step we took.
"You don't know where you shit last!"
And that little house trailer shook.

He said, "don't let nothing go past
And close your open book
It's all on his dead ass
And we're both off the hook"

Marshall was not normal,
He was not one of us.
I sat with the sluts and addicts,
He rode the other bus.
But he followed all the way down
And they blowed us till it sucked.
I (still) ain't seen my way 'round
The brains or the guts

"I don't care what you want
I know what you need.
I was there when you woke up
I'll be there when you bleed
I'll be there you bleed
Lord, I'll
I'll be there when you bleed

J.W. was my best friend
And I see now how it looked
To the police and my old man,
This hare-lipped, crazy crook.
I was taught to keep my head down
Winston didn't raise no fucking punk
"Don't worry 'bout what goes round"
And his fell with a clunk.

"This bastard will not listen
To reason nor to me"
When I got home he'd stabbed him
Was headed for The Salton Sea.

And then the sheriff came 'round
Looking for the man Winston took
"I saw him last with Marshall
And that little hare-lipped crook"

Now I think about it often
When I get that violent itch.
I was born into the coffin-
A son of a gun
And a son of a bitch.