| Living free is gaining on me | 
| Can’t keep ahead of my dreams | 
| My relief turned out a thief | 
| Smooth as rocks in the stream | 
| This old town is a sad affair | 
| You be glad you’re not there | 
| It ties your hands, it spikes your drink | 
| I’d say more, but I can’t think | 
| Lazy Jim took a bottle with him | 
| Tried to flag down a train | 
| Left a note, couldn’t read what he wrote | 
| A light came on in my brain | 
| This old town is a sad affair | 
| You be glad you’re not there | 
| It ties your hands, it spikes your drink | 
| I’d say more, but I can’t think | 
| The hills are gold | 
| Mornings are cold | 
| Don’t know a soul on the street | 
| I keep to myself like everyone else | 
| Nobody says much to me | 
| Go to bed, fight thoughts in my head | 
| In the time between wake and sleep | 
| Rats to kill, contracts to fill | 
| It’s on ice, but it won’t keep | 
| This old town is a sad affair | 
| You be glad you’re not there | 
| It ties your hands, it spikes your drink | 
| I’d say more, but I can’t think | 
| This old town is a sad affair | 
| You be glad you’re not there | 
| It ties your hands, it spikes your drink | 
| I’d say more, but I can’t think |