Lyric Revolver

His spit is worth more than her work
Pass the purse to the pugilist
He s a prizefighter
He brought rings and he owns kin
And now he s swingin
And now he s the champion
Hey revolver, don t mothers make good fathers?
Revolver
A potless domain
Hiders festerning hopes she s certain there s more
pictures of fields without fences
Her body numbs as he approaches the door
Hey revolver, don t mothers make good fathers?
Revolver