The Third Gunman - Nomad Land Lyrics

It's a cruel trick
The beat you play on the vellums of my soul
I'm going crazy
Holding on to what I cannot hold
Yeah, I'm free falling from my head down to my toes

Keeping head above ground
I'm awakened by the sound of the alarm
This foreign land must be demanding a tax
I don't know but something's wrong
This kind of smooth sailing never lasted this long

So tell momma, yeah I'm never coming home
Yeah brother, you'd better not miss me when I'm gone

Found my little piece of heaven
You'd better leave it alone
You come walking through my front door, son
My glock will send you home
Cause I'd rather rot all alone
Yeah, this cursed land's got me sitting on an unholy throne

A nomad soul can't stop wandering at all
If it stops for a minute
It starts staring away from it all
Everyone wants some peace
But what really bothers me
Is the wars they fight to keep it

So tell momma, yeah I've never had no home
I'll keep staring into the soul of the world, forget about my own