There's a bullet in my pocket burning a hole



You're so far from your weapon

And the place you were born



There's a bullet in my pocket burning a hole



You're so far from your weapon

And you want to go home



I try to give you whiskey

But it never do work

Suddenly, you're beggin me

To do so much worse



I knew it from the get go

The bullet was cursed

Ever since I had you

Every little thing hurts



You wanna get up? Let go?

I say no



You dream of seeing fire in them hills

But you better wipe that smile from your lips

Which of us will be the one to go?

He who hits the road's the one who lives