It was in the heart of New York City
I lost my mind
And yet to find
The contract I signed

I’ve the southern hospitality
Of a country land
Living closely with grace from dignity’s hand

Out in the distance
I keep an eye on misery’s demand
For memories like pistons
Revolutionize on commands

Giddy up
Place your finger on the gun
Fight for your right
And for your purpose by the sun

The last days can be for living
Or sinning
But when death knocks on the door
Are you willing To be forgiving?



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