I used to ride shotgun in the summertime,
You said you never cared too much for sunshine
Lady in the orchard I was wrong,
My tired bones couldn’t carry on
It’s hard to walk in shoes filled up with sand
Impossible to sleep with shaking hands
And now you want to know what I have to say
About what it feels like shaking down fathers and sons
If people all look the same when they take to run
I used to collect change and magazines,
You said I had conviction like you’d never seen
Thought I was only good for adoring you,
And getting kick by the horse while our orchard grew
It’s getting harder to imagine winter’s snow,
But easier to calculate or know
What mothers on their knees might have to say
About what it feels like shaking down fathers and sons
If people all look the same through a Jesus Gun
It’s getting harder to escape damnation’s flood
Impossible when dreams a made with blood
Said my lady to the lonely priest while he prayed
About what it feels like shaking down fathers and sons
You turn water to wine and watch the minds of men go numb
About what it feels like shaking down fathers and sons
And if people all look the same through a Jesus Gun
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