Lyrics and music by Rupert Cobb
Copyright 2000
from your central heated Clay
You pay your conscience to be clear
A million miles from here
keep your eyeballs fixed ahead
Then you'll wind up feeling dead
to all the things you said you'd do
Does it ever bother you
Dont feed the pigeons anymore
you'll make it harder than before
Dont have an attitude with me
If I don’t climb your family tree
Dont feed the pigeons anymore
you'll make it harder than before
Don’t leave a penny in the hat
If you don’t really care for that
You pay your conscience to be still
And count your blessings on the hill
It’s not a place on any map
the Life you leed a busy trap
