Besedila: Sparklehorse. In The Dry.

The roof is leaking rust
Disintegrates and dust
I shot a man on sunday
Now I'm a fugitive on monday

Yeah, oh we're
In the dry

The sheriff on my trail
To escort me to jail
With bloodhounds fat and unhealthy
I may be cornered but I'm wealthy

Yeah, oh we're
In the dry

Yeah, oh we're

In the dry

I rise to meet my rivals
They shoot me with their rifles
Now I'm lying by a pool
On a blanket, moist and cool

Yeah, oh we're
In the dry

Yeah, oh we're
In the dry
In the dry