| Hard Times |
|
If you even think this will crush my spirits
Think again
(you're) down for the count and I'm not surprised
But I'm plenty pissed off this backlash of things I never did
These busted knuckles healed long ago
But my fist is still in the air
Through every storm and every trial
And I welcome it with open arms
So let the rains come
Cuz they clean the streets
Bring on the hard times
It keeps me focused
|
| |
|
