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whoa there - sol hardy lyrics

walt was a skinny kid with a temperament
venomous as it was innocent
a head of tinted tenements with a pack of vultures
as the tenants and a deaf landlord
h-ll bent on candor beating itself to death
in the pit of his chest needless to express
he was a bright young mess
fed up at the back of the cl-ss watching
bush’s better years turn brilliance into rats
sufferin succotash
the d-cks on the desk are starting to feel like
decorative threats he figure he better off dead

it’s all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reason to get bad
all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reasons

so one day dangling off the b-tt of a bent cigarette
he gets an idea filled with a filthy filament
yeah i got freedom and this systems stealing it
i got my freedom i’m gonna start feeling it
deal with it
what happened next was a brief stint
on the internet with mom’s credit card to get
an american flag ski mask and a duffle bag
express shipped to the back no questions asked
couple days p-ss antic-p-tion nearly ate him whole
waiting on his fate to show
till at last on the night it arrived
he find himself sneaking into dad’s office
to snag his .45 with a brash heart beating itself alive

all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reasons to get bad
all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reasons

so he laces up his mismatched chucks and dips into the dark
with dad’s strap tucked hits the corner store open twentyfour
stands before a different door than the very same he’d opened
a couple hundred times before
good lord takes a breath
leashes up his gut
drops the stars and stripes over his funny mug
it’s showtime for the afterlife baby, time to unbuckle up
next he busts through the front yelling give me everything you got

all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reasons to get bad
it’s all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reasons

now the nights always young when you don’t give
a d-mn about the sun and with a plan to give uncle sam
a run for his ample funds man, this kids gonna be gone
till the cows drop dead on the lawn
so he capers on robin the hood without a cause
the nonbeliever’s god ready to arma-get-it-on
till after his fourth or fifth rip n dip
he catches the cold blooded lights of the law opening the night like loaded jaw
he heads for the woods and stops to breathe
holding a bag full of freedom snagged from the teeth of
a dragon called reason he figure to keep it’d be a high type of treason
besides he can hear the screams of the delighted policemen
coming through the trees so he pulls out his zippo
flicks the flint and drops it in the cash before he dips
just wishes he could see the faces of the pigs when they find the blazing stash

all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reasons to get bad
it’s all dreams no sleep for the mad
don’t need no reasons

- sol hardy lyrics

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