The old devils are at it again
When there's wood in the shed
There's a bird in the chimmney
And a stone in my bed
When the road's washed out
They pass the bottle around
And wait in the arms
Of the cold cold ground
There's a bird in the chimmney
And a stone in my bed
When the road's washed out
They pass the bottle around
And wait in the arms
Of the cold cold ground
"I just want to fit in"