Their bones break where their hearts cannot.
The heads are going to roll until I want them to stop.
I'll be there with bells on, just name the state.
It'll have to be underground because God ain't up this late.
God ain't up this late.
Bones are breaking 'cause they're weary and aching.
The axes are falling until they're dull or they're breaking.
I'll be there for you, but can we set us a date.
I swear I love you, I swear by Christ,
And it's your father that I hate.
Lying to you never gets to me,
'cause getting caught is what keeps me so honest.
I might be the king of the delta blues.
I might be the king of the delta blues.
I sold my soul to write this for you, get on your back.
Is this really how you like to fuck?
Face down, ass up?
I might be the king of the delta blues.
Trade it pound for pound,
Trade it quart for quart,
Trading lust for love is like trading wine for port.
White-collar floozy's got the blue-collar blues.
More skeletons than closets and
I still have more skin than tattoos.
Ice where it's bruised, swelled,
Rub out the bedsores.
To the face that launches thousands of ships,
I miss you more than ignorance is bliss.
More than I let on with my kiss.
More than you'd ever care to be missed.
Today a sister lost her sister,
A son, his fucking mother.
More than this.
Fuck this.

Lyrics submitted by jessieee, edited by cory111685

King Of The Delta Blues song meanings
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