Letras
Nothing here, nothing there
A whole lot of nothing everywhere
Just a black crow sitting on a rusty wire
You'll see me stacked on a funeral pyre
I smell that smoke and feel that fire
Gonna pack my pistol, pack my knife
Pack my sins from a hard-lived life
To get to the promised land
You're gonna get dirt on your hands
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Say a prayer, honey, but don't wait up
I'll be back, but I don't know when
Gotta do a little business in the devil's den
Money in the ground, blood in the sand
If you live past 30, you're a lucky man
You might not live long, but you will die tired
Like the next poor soul that I'll have to hire
We can all keep singing in the demon choir
Gonna pack my pistol, pack my knife
Pack my sins from a hard-lived life
To get to the promised land
You're gonna get dirt on your hands
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Say a prayer, honey, but don't wait up
I'll be back, but I don't know when
Gotta do a little business in the devil's den
It's a long, hard road
But I'm gonna find my way
I'll be getting what I'm owed
Or there'll be hell to pay
Gonna pack my pistol, pack my knife
Pack my sins from a hard-lived life
To get to the promised land
You're gonna get blood on your hands
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Say a prayer, honey, but don't wait up
I'll be back, but I don't know when
Gotta do a little business in the devil's den
Gotta do a little business in the devil's den