Texty piesní Drive-By Truckers

Drive-By Truckers

Do It Yourself

My Daddy called me on a Friday morning, so sad to tell me just what you’d done

You tried so hard to make us all hate you but in the end you was the only one

Sick, tired, pissed and wired, you never thought about anyone else.

You tried in vain to find something to kill you

In the end you had to do it yourself.

Who's to blame for the loveless marriage, who's to blame for the broken band.

You ran from life and all of it's pleasures, your own teeth marks on your own damned hand.

Thrown out before the date's expired, you'd rather die than let anyone help,

You'd rather die than take a stab at living.

Nothing would kill you so you do it yourself.

Everyone has those times when the night's so long

The dead-end life just drags you down

You lean back under the microphone

And turn your demons into walls of god damned noise and sound.

And it's a sorry thing to do to your sweet sister

It's a sorry thing to do to your little boy

It's a sorry thing to do to the folks who love you

Your Mama and Daddy lost their only boy

Some should say I should cut you slack, but you worked so hard at unhappiness.

Living too hard just couldn't kill you

In the end you had to do it yourself.

Living too hard just couldn't kill you

In the end you had to do it yourself.