Testo Everyway

I feel something coming on
A disease or a song
Call the captain, long gone

We warmed our hands in the corpse of a wild horse
On the shores of Assateague and then blood on our hands
Up to our elbows
At least we're all in this horse together

I feel something coming on
A disease or a song
Call the captain, long gone

And the wooden nickel we took in the divorce
Of rider and corpse was by the book
It's a habit of force
Straight from the source
And by the book

Everyway, everyday
Everyway, everyday
I feel something coming on