Текст песни Glory (The Hill Country Devil) с переводом

The tortured howls of a motel ghost

And the worship songs of a well-worn throat

All cradle me as I waste alone

On a fool’s gold throne

With my troubles all in tow

It’s $ 86 upfront for the key

Tack on another hundred for the company

It’s on my dime, but she holds me tight

We fuck all night

For a moment I’m alright

Home is where I ought to be

Out in the gentle country breeze with my family

But cold in a casket I lie

Bare knuckle boxing polished wood and I’ve grown so tired

I’ve grown so tired

The rounders shine their sawtooth grins

With every page I burn for them

Still I sign myself away to grieve

Through bloodstained sleeves

In the ashes of my needs

And I stand within a makeshift ring

Of follies, lies, and broken things

And I shout and howl and I cry and I sing

Counting blessings down

Crossing the X’s of my doubts

Glory won’t lay her hands on me

Oh how it used to break me down but I’m finding peace

Lord knows I cannot look back now

So I try and swallow pride but it’s awful going down

It’s so awful going down

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