The Next in Line - Swingin Utters

Born on the southside you live alone

Four walls a roof and it’s always cold

Look out the window and there is nothing to see.

But, a rot torn city and the death of your country

And your chilled to the bone

With no possessions to call your own

Yet you control your rage

And you resist the crime

Because you’re the next in line

Born on the southside you live alone

Four walls a roof and it’s always cold

Look out the window and there is nothing to see.

But, a rot torn city and the death of your country

And your chilled to the bone

With no possessions to call your own

Yet you control your rage

And you resist the crime

Because you’re the next in line

Out the back door and to the corner store

All you want is a drink and nothing more

Sit on the stoop and Let the liquor sooth your pride

Before you go inside

And your chilled to the bone

With no possessions to call your own

Yet you control your rage

And you resist the crime

Because you’re the next in line

You cut in front and now you’re the next in line

You cut in front and now you’re the next in line

You never thought you’d lead a life of crime

You cut in front and now you’re the next in line

Freedoms the only thing you need

But the truth is something few understand

And an unwelcome reality

Now it’s dark and black and sad and gone

You express and repress the things gone wrong

And you want to be the man who ran away

And you wish you could go back to yesterday

Now he’s in her room and he’s about to lie

So you pull the gun squeeze the trigger

And you let the bullets fly…