"Trouble" as written by Amy Elizabeth Ray and Emily Ann Saliers....
Trouble came around here
Here in the South we fix something to eat
Steam risin' up off the greenery
And we welcome the strangers we meet
Alien sick growing in these walls
Like moss in a crack that time made
I brush a guy in the airport whistling it's a small world after all
And the prices are higher but the kids still selling lemonade

Get to the point of it
Get to the sense of it
I'm in a hurry to get through it

A hurricane flag flappin' in a bad storm
Same color of the spider underneath my nail that bit me in my dream
And who would take out the Dominican Republic
And send God's sweet children floating down a poison stream
Secret society of conference rooms
I pledge my allegiance to the dollar
And when the clergy take a vote all the gays will pay again, yeah
'Cause there's more than one kind of criminal white collar

To get to the point of it
Get to the sense of it
I'm in a hurry to get through it

One day the war will stop
And we'll grow a peaceful crop
And a girl can get a wife
And we can bring you back to life
Sacks of flour and rice or poker chips
Greasy palms and systems underhanding
And maybe we'll take a walk on Pluto
But be no closer to the understanding

And get to the point of it
Get to the sense of it
I'm in a hurry to get through it yeah


Lyrics submitted by ThePurpleAngel

"Trouble" as written by Emily Ann Saliers Amy Elizabeth Ray

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group

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