Lyrics
First book of the book they read Says I went and killed my brother dead Says the ground he fell on opened wide And the Lord could see me where I tried to hide
And the field still calls his name to me And the harvest grew up crookedly And the wind comes out of every door Like the dirt remembers what it bore
Cain's whiskey, Cain's whiskey Brother's blood and a borrowed glass Pour it slow, pour it heavy Drink the mark that won't come off
He had a wife, he had a son He had a good way with anyone I had a temper, I had a knife I had a taste for someone else's life
And the field still calls his name to me And the harvest grew up crookedly And the wind comes out of every door Like the dirt remembers what it bore
Cain's whiskey, Cain's whiskey Brother's blood and a borrowed glass Pour it slow, pour it heavy Drink the mark that won't come off
Some folks get a second start Some folks get a brother back Some folks get a steady heart I got dirt and a dirty track
Cain's whiskey, Cain's whiskey Brother's blood and a borrowed glass Pour it slow, pour it heavy Drink the mark that won't come off Drink the mark that won't come off
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Dark Country Artists
About this song
Gothic Outlaw Rock, heavy blues-rock with biblical menace, deep comman
License
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