"Deadweight [Edit]" as written by Beck Hansen, John Robert King and Michael S. Simpson....
On a highway unpaved going my way
You're so alone today
Like a ghost town I've found
There's no relief, no salt in the sea
Is it true what they say
You can't behave
You gamble your soul away
Measuring your dreams of this life seems
Like the gristle of loneliness

Don't let the sun catch ya crying
Don't let the sun catch ya crying

Like an nice age nice days
On your way sipping the golden dregs
On a rip tide freaks ride
Sleep inside a parasite's appetite
Oh say can't ya see the chemistry
The parasites, the cleanup fee
Death leather hands recycled cans
Get well cards to the hostage vans

Don't let the sun catch ya crying
Don't let the sun catch ya crying

You're a dead weight right straight
On your way sunk in the midnight shade
Skies burn eyes turn
Learning to counterfeit their disease
In this town where we roam
We bluff our souls on canteen patios
Drink the greatest draft
The music drags the music drags the music drags

Don't let the sun catch ya crying
Don't let the sun catch ya crying


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Deadweight" as written by John Robert King Beck Hansen

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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Deadweight [Edit] song meanings
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