Pervert Blood

Sam Swinson, Adam Pressley

Grampa threw a bag of coon-hunt puppies in the burning can
I mighta let ‘em starve, choices like that are luckily left to another kind of man
I am a liar, angel, and all you ever wanted was my honesty
Truest thing you’ll ever hear me say
I have forsaken anyone who ever gave a damn about me

Dad never had quite a bag with his eyes before he's changed on
Now he’s fightin’ with the devil in the kitchen on his knees, praying "Please resign the soul of my son"
I want to ask the Lord Jesus Christ to punch out my lights and curse God out of curiosity
The only time I’m not completely full of shit is when I’m twisting up the truth
Honestly, they still call that dishonesty

Give me back the light, make it bright enough to give me a lobotomy
Lord’s grace sends repentance from crack smoke and bath salt and sodomy
I have pervert blood in my veins, they pop out and haunt me for the games that kills the pain
Angel, I’ve been telling folks I’m mentally ill
For long enough now that it’s absolutely real

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