Under the Hoof - Wasted Theory

I hear the stampede coming

It’s time to open fire

Hog blood on the tip of my tongue

And you know that I’m the devil’s child

I hear that black dog howling

It’s creepin' up inside

Got a fever of 103

And you know she makes me lose my mind

Burning up, Burning out

Four on the floor and she’s ready for more, I said…

Burning up, Burning out

Hellbent for whiskey and that Dixie wine, I said…

Burning up, Burning out

Four on the floor and she’s ready for more, I said.

Burning up, Burning out

I hear that cold black thunder

Another endless night

These bitter pills are all I need

And we’r heading for the morning light

I hear th rat race thumping

You know they’re running wild

Venom dripping down my throat

And you know that I’m the lord of the flies

Burning up, Burning out

Four on the floor and she’s ready for more, I said…

Burning up, Burning out

Hellbent for whiskey and that Dixie wine, I said…

Burning up, Burning out

Four on the floor and she’s ready for more, I said.

Burning up, Burning out