Gold Rush

Oh your mouth is like a bear trap baby And those wild words they were born to run Oooh you skin just the right sentences To put together your taxidermy verse And Oklahoma didn't yield the gold you thought that I would When you're panning for hope, but the years roll by faster than they should You say home is now just a memory A dusty bowl filled with drunks and butts of cigarettes A wasteland fueled by whiskey full of angry folk Who love to talk politics The neon lights turn that one square mile town on fire And the bar flies soar into the light at least they'll die for their desires And how can you go back without gold in your hands They'll all call you a liar Oh your mouth is like a bear trap baby And those wild words they were born to run