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 spotless domain 
Hides festering hopes she's certain there's more 
Pictures of fields without fences 
Her body numbs as he aproaches the door 

Hey revolver, don't mothers make good fathers? 
Revolver