Jj Grey & Mofro Tragic
For his pleasure he sits sweating The ghost of a man who
now haunts himself Hear the steady tick of time like a
levee Holding in his troubled mind He was proud he was
strong Now he's counting back the days to what went
wrong A pipe a dream a fearful scream All these FBI
agents hiding in your pine trees Lord it is tragic
Burning faster than a fuse lit from both ends He spirals
down At the ready with a list of excuses Most of his
friends they don't know him now The family's tired and
confused He's still trying to make an offer they can't
refuse Is he clean is he free Are those FBI agents
still hiding in his pine trees? Lord it is tragic
