This baggage handcuffed to my wrists
I drag it everywhere I go
Sometimes I fight you with my fists
But if I knew which way was home
Before the karma cut me loose
Would bring me whisky and my water
Sometimes I get the blues
Though I know I shouldnt oughta
That's where I'd go
Run down ghost trail, no chance of love
No sign of life, just wild dogs howlin in the night
Oh, that's what I like
Before the karma cut me free
I'm sick of my own company
Sometimes I miss the boat
Most times I miss my home
That's where I'd go
If I new which way was home
Run down ghost trail, no chance of love
No sign of life
Just wild dogs howlin' in the night
Hear 'em howl...
|
Switch to Russian 
