Death March (April 1994)

4-94

I’ve been bad, I’ve been good

Faced the things I thought I could

Said my prayers, sang my song

Watched the days grow sad and long

Now I got no one, now I got no one

I seek for things without going to far

I lust for a life not bitter or hard

God picked me up and we rode in his car

Then he kicked my out of the passenger door

Now I’m walking, now I’m walking—on

Life’s a death march

The tired and slow

Are obliterated beneath

The wheels of the strong—

Take me somewhere I can belong

In the shade of a tree

By the banks of the river, yeah

With a fishin’ pole in the sand

And a sizeable joint in my hand