الأغاني:
Bootleg

For the bootleg whiskey man His age was barely twenty-one, his family was ashamed They had a son who left his home For a bootleg whiskey game Bootleg

Oh, God said to Abraham, "Kill me a son" Abe says, "Man you must be puttin' me on" God says, "No", Abe say "What?" God say "You can do what you want Abe

Darkness at the break of noon Shadows even the silver spoon The handmade blade, the child's balloon Eclipses both the sun and moon To understand you know

When you're lost in the rain in Juarez And it's Easter time too And your gravity fails And negativity don't pull you through Don't put on any airs When

Oh the time will come up When the winds will stop And the breeze will cease to be breathin'. Like the stillness in the wind 'Fore the hurricane begins

Well I got troubles, troubles on my mind Yes, when I got those troubles, troubles on my mind Well, I'm gonna forget my troubles, leave my troubles behind

I was young when I left home An' I been out ramblin' 'round An' I never wrote a letter to my home To my home, Lord, to my home An' I never wrote a letter

Come make your complaint to Bootleg Saint (He's been gone, keepin' on, keepin' on for your freedom) Black boots, brown skin, he's chemical roots He's

I think I cracked my skull on the way down I think I lost my head when I lay down The fear facts presented in the cold light of day I say, the time has