Title: Rock Bottom
Artist: Pasadena
Album: Sick And Tired
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Lord, you know, you know, I try
But with this weight upon my table Ill be working til the day I die
Its enough to make a man want to lose his mind
Somewhere between a brick wall and a 45
What I seek Ill never find
All my divine has been replaced with dollar signs
But I know some things just cant be found
There high up in the atmosphere hidden by the clouds
Where the roads align we go
Replace mine with cobblestone
Where the problems at home
are too tangible to go
If I should die before I wake
Throw my body in the bay
And let the tide
Carry me away
If I should go to heavens gates
St. Peter says Son, you came too late
With the property tax and the interest rates
You cant afford this place
If I should go to the depths of hell
The politicians took up all the cells
There aint no room left here for me to dwell
So I go home to where I belong
And I sing my songs to my bedroom wall
Where Rock Bottom aint too far for me to fall
Home where I belong
Sing my songs to my bedroom wall
Where Rock Bottom aint too far for me to fall