more than eight

Its the same routine
wake up, shower, head outside
start the truck drink some
the head of the nutmeg state
to live this life must be great
and hes driving on
passing pigs taking radar
stops behind busses
eyes dropping, another sip
It starts to rain drip by drip
It seems kind of hard
never known the outsiders
never had there luck
always working overtime
time in half-not in this line
and shades drop some more
the caffeine has lost its kick
seeing these visions
sun setting in mountains
kids giggling at fountains
he than hears sirens
peers out through the pouring rain
a little boy lays
blood fills the streets around
tragic in this little town

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