Letras:
Greg Graffin Cold As The Clay

for he had seen Pictures in magazines that told him so California cottonfields Where labor camps were filled With worried men with broken dreams California cottonfields As close to wealth as

Went out last night to take a little round, I met a little Sadie and I blowed her down, Bummed a ride home, got in to bed, 44 smokeless under my head

Down in the holler there's a thriving town A treasure trove that makes the world go 'round, When the city barons bring their legal papers and guns, Oh

Oh, yonder stands the prophet, words are music to our ears, But down among the sinners, only pain and sweat and tears The sermon soothes the simple but

trade lie shopworn and old The skills of the master done died with his soul And the worklike routine is so lonely and cold Cold as the clay, dark as

Down in the holler there's a thriving town A treasure trove that makes the world go 'round, When the city barons bring their legal papers and guns, Oh

Went out last night to take a little round, I met a little Sadie and I blowed her down, Bummed a ride home, got in to bed, 44 smokeless under my head

Rich man, poor man, beggar or thief, no matter which one in this life you lead If you think you've reached the top of the world just look all around

Talk about suffering here below And let's keep a-loving Jesus. Talk about suffering here below And let's keep a-following Jesus. Oh, can't you hear