Junkyard - Zac Brown Band
I have lived in a junkyard
Where the ***** eat up the rain
If you get anything there
Even out of place
You know there's hell to pay
And he says
You're as sick you are lovely
And in need of a hand
He tells me you are never worthy
But I was just a child you see
That was my reality
He had a sick little girl dirty and harmed
With a breast plate made of metal
She drives all day in a rusty Buick
Feet don't reach the pedals
Got a jar of flies a fathers disguise
Where his heart should be
Her mouth is sown together
She screams with those eyes
She screams with those eyes
She screams with those eyes
She's as sick
She is lovely and in need of my hand
Yeah in need this the those hand
He tells her you are never worthy
She was all alone you see
That was her reality
Well shoulda been sleepin shoulda been dreaming
But I wake up to broken glass
There'll be one more empty desk
In my homeroom class
I got an old bone pocket knife
Tight in my right hand
To save my poor mother
From the junk yard man
And I say
He is lovely
And in need of a hand
He will know he's not worthy
He will die alone you see that's his reality
I'm not sick I am lovely
Hatred is the curse of man
I will not feel unworthy
'Cause I've washed my hands you see
That's my reality
