Yard trip number seven's

The one that they painted on the lawn

And if we load it up into this gun

Soon it'll all be gone

Quarter to eleven on the day of my birth

In the desert wind i would have a grin

That might shatter the earth

Whoa



There's three short ways to live again

Crumble like paper upon my skin

They all tell you to try

But you're gonna cry

When no one cares where you've been



Couple days of driving in circles i'd rather spin

We've got eight more lives and two more tries

And six ways for drifting beyond

Whoa



Yard trip number seven's the one they

Tried to steal from heaven

And if we load it up into this gun

Soon it'll all be gone

Whoa


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