Beck - Ghost Range (E-Pro)

See me comin to town with my soul 
Straight down out of the world with my fingers 
Holding onto the devil I know 
All my troubles'll hang on your trigger 
Take your eyes and your mind from the road 
Shoot your mouth off but look where you're aiming 
Don't forget to pick up what you sow 
Talking trash to the garbage around you 

See me kickin the door with my boots 
Broke down out in a ditch of old rubbish 
Snakes and bones in the back of your room 
Handing out a confection of venom 
Heaven's drunk from the poison you use 
Charm the wolves with the eyes of a gambler 
Now I see it's a comfort to you 
Hammer my bones on the anvil of daylight 

I won't give up that ghost 
It's sick the way these tongues are twisted 
The good in us is all we know 
There's too much left to taste that's bitter