Flings of the Waistcoat Crowd Lyrics & Tabs by Robert Pollard

Flings of the Waistcoat Crowd

guitar chords lyrics

Robert Pollard

Great days are becoming
A matchlight liquor establishment
Where the factory soaks its scabs

It hangs there like insectrocutioner
Over the big river
Scum of us rinsed by a hard rain
The tar, the teeth & the gear
Yet no trail
All around the camp
And that is our game
To brag and complain
To guess who goes next
To tally the scars
Learn every weakness

To tally the scars
Learn every weakness