Ruger Model 77

Feet on the floor, 1835
A knock at the door, but it's keeping us alive
Dust on your lungs, the moths all turned white
But it smells like corn rye and the lights stay on all night

Priest shot his god, let him bleed on the ground
Elon bought the moon, and sold us pound for pound
Some maintain hope, sure I do too
But I'd wager no bet that'd risk me losing you

So I'm gonna get a Ruger Model 77
If anybody hurts you I'll send 'em straight to heaven
Oh, let 'em on me darlin, what do ya say
Can we get away

Gonna get a Ruger Model 77
If anybody hurts you I'll send 'em straight to heaven
Oh, let 'em on me darlin, what do ya say
Can we get away
Away



Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Montana
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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