Old Pine Box - Those Poor Bastards

I don’t want you coming round to see me

Go back into town I wanna think

I don’t want to talk about tomorrow

I’m tired of your God-fearing stink

The rain is always leaking through the windows

No one’s always knocking on the door

Never had a name they call me trouble

And I don’t wanna live here anymore

Throw me in an old pine box

And nail that lid on top

We inherit the sins of our fathers

My daddy was an evil, evil man

I’m proud to say I never really knew him

But I can feel his awful presence in my skin

Who’s that yonder crouching in the corner?

Why sir are you hanging from that tree?

What’s that thing scratching 'neath the floorboards?

This town it just don’t feel the same to me

Throw me in an old pine box

And nail that lid on top

Brother I have never not been lost

The apples on the tree have turned to rot

And all around I feel the Lord’s eyes watching

If you think I’m gonna whimper well I’m not

What ya gonna do come Sunday morning

When everything you see has turned to dust?

Well I just don’t believe this shit you’re preaching

Forgive me holy father if you must

Throw me in an old pine box

And nail that lid on top

I can’t afford to pay for heat this winter

Ice is crawling up and down the walls

If anyone should ever stop to wonder

Just tell 'em no one lives here anymore

Throw me in an old pine box

And nail that lid on top