The Gone Jackals. Barrel of Crabs. Zeneszám

I was born there,
Before I knew better.
Went to school there,
But learned to avoid that.
Fell in love there,
But love couldn t thrive there.
Picked it up
And I left it behind, said -

Man, alive!
Get me out of this barrel of crabs.

Most our homes were
Depressed by division.
What passed for friendship
Was really protection .

Any work there
Disolved into trouble.
Ate me up,
Livin life on the bubble, said -

Man, alive!
Get me out of this barrel of crabs.

Everytime I d gain some ground,
Another man s scheme would just pull me back down.
Everytime I spied the top.
The next poor sucker s there to give me the drop.