Besedila:
Winter Johnny Nothing Left

was born to be mistreated, contentment seems too hard to find Searchin' for some understandin', then I lost my mind, left it far behind Nothing left

and not a rag have I There's nothing in the house to make a boy's britches Nor shears to cut a cloth with nor thread to take stitches There's nothing

say he went away navigating empty streets astray among the lost a shadow in the corner of a stranger's eye but there's nothing left to learn do