Hot Liquids Burn Like Fire - Rye Whiskey, Rocks (feat. Dying Seed)

And what I bury is not your concern
My relics weigh only me down
What's to exhume, what's to learn
That I am scum of some renown?

What you're looking for is some clear pattern
A map to trace a smile to scowl
Keep on digging you'll find that urn
With just a spade and trowel

Pour me another drink, You good for nothing
Pour me another rye whiskey, rocks
Only fools embrace the thing
That pushes and shoves and changes the locks

There's truth in fiction, but can you discern
I was honest until I lied
Some parts will make your stomach churn
Now I say that with some pride

Brimstone from a whisky sticky lectern
Tales unearthed from a shallow grave
Soon I'll be gone, I won't return
Be well, be good and behave

Is there a group for men and sons they spurn?
Though I would surely not attend
The damaged speak and then it's your turn
Some mend, but most pretend

Written by:
Elliott Marx

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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