Mother Mary

I've walked half of this country to get to this town To put a bill in my pocket, shake the dirt from a crown If your worries are trouble then your trouble, it's broke Your bottle is empty, now there's blood on the floor Your bottle is empty and there's blood on the floor Well, the colors ain't mixin', your tolerance has run dry So you board up your windows to make it through the night They might hunt you like foxes, they'll sell you as slaves You'll be the one throwin' fire when they make it to the grave You'll be the one throwin' fire when they make it to the grave Mother Mary called She wants her son's blood washed from the walls Mother Mary called She wants her son's blood washed from the walls Well, we're havin' this baby come the first of July My job is a joke and this bank account dry If the Lord loves his children like your good book does teach Well, He'd burn these here bastards, put shoes on my feet He'd burn these here bastards and put shoes, He'd put shoes on my feet Mother Mary called She wants her son's blood washed from the walls Mother Mary called She wants her son's blood washed She wants her son's blood washed Said she wants her son's blood washed She wants her son's blood washed She wants her son's blood washed Said she wants her son's blood, my Lord She wants her son's blood, my Lord Said she wants her son's blood, yeah, washed from the walls