Lyrics Jailbreak - B. Dolan
Nights
with
the
lights
out,
days
in
the
hole
Mind
wonder
quite
how
I
stayed
in
control
Tracing
my
name
in
the
face
of
the
stone
And
I
might
turn
up
right
under
their
nose
When
the
keyhole
planks
and
the
man
comes
Do
you
crawl
on
all
fours
or
stand
up
I
am
upright,
I
am
smiling
I'mma
get
off
this
fucking
island
Drag
me
out
into
the
moonlight
Where
the
wall
is
all
around
The
good
men
are
all
in
their
bed
The
undead
are
all
underground
Walk
through
the
night
to
the
break
of
day
I've
been
digging
the
holes
the
old
fashioned
way
I
got
blood
on
my
knuckles
and
rock
to
crack
When
you
tunnel
this
far,
no
stoppin'
that
It's
no
slowin'
down,
it's
no
doublin'
back
Gotta
go
the
ground
and
get
a
hold
of
a
map
Size
stroke
toward
hope
with
the
ocean
crashes
It
may
go
down
but
I
can't
go
backwards
Uh,
bars,
callin'
all
cars,
hacks
in
the
robo,
caught
em
off
guard
Riot
in
the
yard
when
you
hear
the
bell
Betta
face
toward
heaven
and
run
like
hell
Hell
is
other
people
And
heaven
is
the
chance
you
take
in
vain
And
you
might
need
to
kill
me,
mister
I
ain't
going
back
to
jail
Ain't
going
back
to
jail
1976
was
the
year
Heavenly
mix
that
eventually
sticks
Not
to
mention
the
heaviest
bricks
in
concrete
Conquerin'
drum
beats
the
honkies
with
tight
pants
I
might
dance,
watch
me
now!
And
reading
Archie
comics
Nonstop
rocks
off
in
Bon
Scott's
vomit
Pawn
shop,
final
33
in
the
3rd
deep
Pristine
dirty
deeds
done
dirt
cheap
Side
one
track
one,
deadlock,
stalemate
jailbreak
Wait
to
gain
Build
your
muscle,
educate
your
brain
Stickin'
my
arms
through
the
bars
of
the
hand-held
Mary
one
maid,
muthafucka,
jailbreak
Vertical
vertical
vertical
vertical
Diagonal
Diaz-animal,
eyes
half
mast
Time
in
a
flatfoot
lap,
on
the
night
of
his
briar
patch
act
Give
him
to
the
fire,
wish
you
were
simple,
a
signal
A
tripped
up
guard
with
a
neck
full
of
tendrils
Ribs
to
the
bars
in
a
moment
of
mayhem
Go
for
the
key
ring,
open
the
cages
Say
hello
to
a
growing
equation,
woah
Sounds
fantastic,
no
Got
a
Giggen
launcher
via
good
behavior
Now
I'm
looking
to
enable
an
elusive
nature
Here's
how
the
oldest
trick
in
the
book
look
When
performed
by
coldest
fish
on
the
cook
hook
It
was
deep
in
the
pan
with
the
rags
and
patches
After,
a
rearranged
mess
hall
distraction,
aw
shh
Never
mind
cabin
fever,
on
whisper
road
like
it's
wabbit
season
I'm
a
bad
bad
man,
I'm
a
maverick
heathen
I
am
on
the
truck,
I
am
past
the
beacon
I
am
being
fed
fresh
red
grapes
by
the
evening
Over
state
lines
on
an
'89
Sebring,
bye
Pardon
the
commotion
I
caused
It
was
this
or
a
me
shaped
hole
in
the
wall
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