Granny's 12 Gauge, Copyright 1998.
This town is made of the strangest things
Washed-out lives and dried-up dreams
This town's got some deep dark cracks
Mystery holes and tourist traps
Strange things, dried-up dreams
Strange things, dried-up dreams
They'll haunt you in the night
They'll haunt you in the night
Nobody here's got a permanent address
Nobody here's got happiness
I've got a suitcase of hate and a bottle of despair
Granny's 12 Gauge and a thousand yard
stare
Strange things, dried-up dreams
Strange things, dried-up dreams
They'll haunt you in the night
They'll haunt you in the night
I rolled into town about a year too late
The homecoming queen she'd had her last date
This town it ain't, baby, it ain't what it seems
This town's got nothin' but dried-up
dreams
Strange things, dried-up dreams
Strange things, dried-up dreams
They'll haunt you in the night
They'll haunt you in the night