Burning Hay

Burning the hay day’s flurry’s from club Sixty Eight It was said, I would fight a buzz saw, maybe if it crossed me Road house blues, old news but never to miscreate For living in the condemnation was never, to be easy You see the fear and loathing came before ever I met Hunter S, for I was driving through decadence to sleazy A speakeasy but never was it a black and white bet Cruising route 68 to where rock-n-roll met the road Where hall of famer's played, before they were somebody Skillet fried from all the cornbread and your own code Fast music, fast cars, fast women all aboard everybody Getting to the club was half the fun, so we thought Leaving blue lights behind for they gave us a rash Where the mafia rules and nightly battles fought Walking on glass, the parking lot was as the roadhouse bash Before you hit the door knives, guns flash in the moonlight Don’t mess with my brother it could end your life Everything is on the table not coming down to daylight Even then, it was only glorified misery, waking again to strife Looking through the hole in the wall never wanting to go back For all the crosses, beside the road, in hindsight friend Not all made it through, the wrong side of the track By the grace of God it was a song with an end