Oh, Mr. Cash,
I’ve got the Sunday morning blues
That Line is all blurred over
Everyone’s on the left or right
I don’t see Redemption anywhere near
There’s Hurt everywhere
Our Heads are Hung in shame
And every one has the ******* Blues
I feel the pain of the Devil’s Right Hand
Too many people have Big Irons
Too few Hearts are made of Gold
And too many Boys called Sue
You warned us about our Guns in Town
But we didn’t listen
The water’s Five Feet Higher than it ought to be
People focus too much on Flesh and not enough on Blood
God will Cut us Down
But until he does, I wear Black with you
To mourn your unheard warnings