Zac Brown Band - Junkyard

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Em

And I have lived in a junkyard, where the weeds eat up the rain

Em

You get anything there, you are out of place

Em

You know there's hell to pay

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And say, "You're are sick, as you are lovely

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And in need of a hand"

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He tells me, you are never worthy

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But I was just a child you see, that's 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

A mouth is sown together, she screams with those eyes!

And he says, "She's as sick, as she is lovely 

and in need of my help"

He tells her, you are never worthy 

She was all alone you see, that was her reality… yeah





Shoulda been sleepin, shoulda been dreaming, but I wake up to broken glass

We want more, an 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's as sick as he is lovely

And in need of a hand"

And he will know he's not worthy

Cause he will die alone you see, that's his reality 





I'm not sick, I am lovely, and hatred is the curse of man!

And I will not feel unworthy 

Cause I've washed my hands you see, that's my reality