Gonna Get My Gun

Good Lord son

Gonna get my gun

Looking like I gotta go on the run

I'm sick and tired

Of all these liars

And bitin' my tongue

This cumbersome day-to-day

Pushing me close to the brink

I can't deal with this shit anymore

Making me drink

So pour a shot of whiskey

Too late to sober up

This whole damn year just sucked me in

And fucked me up

Good Lord son

Gonna get my gun

Looking like I gotta go on the run

I'm sick and tired

Of all these liars

And bitin' my tongue

Starting today

I found me a way

To get outta this hell

And be ok

So let's go for a ride

Live free or die

What do ya say?

All them morning headlines

Punching me hard in the gut

The voices in that little box

Telling me what's up

But they don't have a solution

Make up as they go along

And they all think they're right

But I know they're wrong

Good Lord son

Gonna get my gun

Looking like I gotta go on the run

I'm sick and tired

Of all these liars

And bitin' my tongue

Starting today

I found me a way

To get outta this hell

And be ok

So let's go for a ride

Live free or die

What do ya say?