I cant wait to observe my GENX party-peoples once they begin hittin tha old folks homes!? Buncha thoroughly punctured, painted up peacocks n' pee-hens, clanking, jangling heads hangin low, due to Lb's & Lb's of piercings, padlocks, immense hippie crystal necklaces, saftey-pin earings n' clanking chains. Rattling'ly emptied pill bottle(s) softly sloughing its silent mating call(s), stashed safely betwixt holler'd out, droopy ear-gauge voids that'd make a cocker spaniel blush with envy. Those Sarlac-Pit diameter ear-holes aint just f'er stashin two xtra 12 gauge shells m'ah dears. Well worn n' wrinkled tissue paper faces, floppy bingo-arms, liver-spot'd hands, more chins than a Chinese phone book, tweeked legs, arthritic backs & dangling, well folded, vibrating, Shar-Pei dog necks bearing a faded color blurred slurry of "No Ragrets" youthful indiscretion(s) Dump-Truck loads of "ThaDevilMadeMeDoIt" tattoos of poor decision(s) The homes remaining females drag racin DemoDerby wheelchairs, doin burn-outs up n' down the halls with furiously spurious abandon. Slappin n' scratchin @ each other, loudly cursin like AWOL drunken demon-sailors, running over n' dustin up any/all residents hair curlers, eye-glasses, cobwebs, flattening errant slippers, shattering glass eyes, rupturing cans of Ensure, cans the diminutive n' frailer weakling gals depend upon as an evasive life saving belay-line, keeping that looming, lightning ridden grey scaled horizon, curious cemetery's & the Grim Reapers 'Great Beyond' fetish @ a safer-ish stand-off distance. Except for tha gals wear'n the 'Double Your Safety/Eyesight Back' slip-over Joo-Janta200 Super Chromatic Peril Sensitive sunglasses that make one look like a Evil Robot Evil Olden Person Terminator, as seen in the nostalgic Black n' White 'Talkie' films of yesteryear. Those gals tend to win EVERY race n' figure 8 track demo derby That 8 Track taking them back to their toddler years. Maybe its the Hittite inspired, razor-sharp twirling chariot blades affixed to those wheel hubs? Aged former porn-stars banging those wrinkled, forgetful heads, jigglin those jiggling invalid pendulum pancake titties to by-gone grunge era orchestral classics as the backing tracks. As the public-address buzzer prompt sounds its weary, mournful call, bruised, busted up^ bedraggled pensioners n' high-velocity bent, scratched n' well dented wheelchairs a'clatterin together, careening off walls, terrifying staff members in a mad bum-rush to be the first place holder @ the facilities treasured 'Twerking Class' exercise room. 2nd place AKA: '1st Loser' positions occupied by thirsty elderly, hoping the trophy-prize consists of cans of Ensure (*TM) 97% of formerly present males either passed on, or face down, gurgling, suicide drowning in those Frankenstein'ian-spec soup bowls rest homes the world over all tend to purchase for some reason? Eternally watchful Jackson Pollack painted Ravens, constantly assaulting n' rap a' tap tappin on the Nurse Station's "Nevermore" cubicle door for much needed chemical assistance hobbies. Sweating, shakily querying the nurses for an additional short term, high interest, pay-day medication loan(s) Its 'gon be an impressive sight my friends, thats for certain...;)
[Well I'm a hitman for a living but, living gets harder than that I’ve got some regret, and I've got some regrets about that You know this occupation ain't hard when it pays this damn much When you’re a hitman for a living You don't quit, you just lose your touch I'm losing my touch, second guessing my aim And even when I hit my mark, these days it don't feel the same And I've made a killing outliving my conscious And shunning my shame I look at my list, the only one left is my name I'm a hitman for a living, but I hit rock bottom today Go and tally the cost, what I lost is twice what I gained No comfort ain't coming to those who profit from pain I look at my list, the only one left is my name If I'm losing my touch, end my love for the game It only seems right that I draw that line through my name Sympathies keep up please, I ain’t down on my knees all the same See I’m a hitman for a living, but I quit my living today Yeah I'm a hitman for a living, but I quit my living today]
"Lonely tonight in a room filled with fame, empty glass of Kentucky Rye, and a good 'ole J-Frame!! I ponder my choices, my devilish ways. There's nothing I regret, just a few things I'd change. Like that night in Bolder, the 2 kids, and a plane. The contract was for the devil himself, take out his eyes, and leave his head on the shelf. A typical Tuesday for a Hitman like myself, but things went south when I walked through the door, it's a story I won't tell now or nevermore." This came to mind after listening Lol 👍🐱👤
Subtitles are disabled, so I don't really understand what you're singing about right now, but I'm sure that the song is as worthy as ever. Субтитры отключены, по этому я плохо понимаю о чём ты брат сейчас поёшь, но уверен, что песня как и всегда достойная.
@ 0:59 That actor guy in video^ iz about ta' go g'it him some? Iffin ya down'd that dirty dingo intruder You's a man n'ah! Te'has lookes lika dangerous place dud'nt it?...;)
I used to do some pretty bad things when i ran in a 1%er club, the fed bit and rap sheet always haunt me, im sober now gave my life to jesus but fuck man i cant ever catch a damn break, i feel this guy is writing songs from my mind
The randomness of the two camels!
Can't wait to hear this guy when he's 60... get some broken hearts and second chances in that voice.... perfection
I cant wait to observe my GENX party-peoples once they begin hittin tha old folks homes!?
Buncha thoroughly punctured, painted up peacocks n' pee-hens, clanking, jangling heads hangin low, due to Lb's & Lb's of piercings, padlocks, immense hippie crystal necklaces, saftey-pin earings n' clanking chains.
Rattling'ly emptied pill bottle(s) softly sloughing its silent mating call(s), stashed safely betwixt holler'd out, droopy ear-gauge voids that'd make a cocker spaniel blush with envy.
Those Sarlac-Pit diameter ear-holes aint just f'er stashin two xtra 12 gauge shells m'ah dears.
Well worn n' wrinkled tissue paper faces, floppy bingo-arms, liver-spot'd hands, more chins than a Chinese phone book, tweeked legs, arthritic backs & dangling, well folded, vibrating, Shar-Pei dog necks bearing a faded color blurred slurry of "No Ragrets" youthful indiscretion(s)
Dump-Truck loads of "ThaDevilMadeMeDoIt" tattoos of poor decision(s)
The homes remaining females drag racin DemoDerby wheelchairs, doin burn-outs up n' down the halls with furiously spurious abandon.
Slappin n' scratchin @ each other, loudly cursin like AWOL drunken demon-sailors, running over n' dustin up any/all residents hair curlers, eye-glasses, cobwebs, flattening errant slippers, shattering glass eyes, rupturing cans of Ensure, cans the diminutive n' frailer weakling gals depend upon as an evasive life saving belay-line, keeping that looming, lightning ridden grey scaled horizon, curious cemetery's & the Grim Reapers 'Great Beyond' fetish @ a safer-ish stand-off distance.
Except for tha gals wear'n the 'Double Your Safety/Eyesight Back' slip-over Joo-Janta200 Super Chromatic Peril Sensitive sunglasses that make one look like a Evil Robot Evil Olden Person Terminator, as seen in the nostalgic Black n' White 'Talkie' films of yesteryear.
Those gals tend to win EVERY race n' figure 8 track demo derby
That 8 Track taking them back to their toddler years.
Maybe its the Hittite inspired, razor-sharp twirling chariot blades affixed to those wheel hubs?
Aged former porn-stars banging those wrinkled, forgetful heads, jigglin those jiggling invalid pendulum pancake titties to by-gone grunge era orchestral classics as the backing tracks.
As the public-address buzzer prompt sounds its weary, mournful call, bruised, busted up^ bedraggled pensioners n' high-velocity bent, scratched n' well dented wheelchairs a'clatterin together, careening off walls, terrifying staff members in a mad bum-rush to be the first place holder @ the facilities treasured 'Twerking Class' exercise room.
2nd place AKA: '1st Loser' positions occupied by thirsty elderly, hoping the trophy-prize consists of cans of Ensure (*TM)
97% of formerly present males either passed on, or face down, gurgling, suicide drowning in those Frankenstein'ian-spec soup bowls rest homes the world over all tend to purchase for some reason?
Eternally watchful Jackson Pollack painted Ravens, constantly assaulting n' rap a' tap tappin on the Nurse Station's "Nevermore" cubicle door for much needed chemical assistance hobbies.
Sweating, shakily querying the nurses for an additional short term, high interest, pay-day medication loan(s)
Its 'gon be an impressive sight my friends, thats for certain...;)
Men that have walked a road or two relate to this guy. TLKF is kick ass!
I’m building a 78 shovelhead. And I said I’m gonna ride out to Texas from Cali to see TLKF play.
'36 Knuck.
73’ shovel- open primary/rigid. Damn! Those were the days
Fred Eaglesmith vibe. Love it.
I'm listening directly from Brazil, I love your music
[Well I'm a hitman for a living but, living gets harder than that
I’ve got some regret, and I've got some regrets about that
You know this occupation ain't hard when it pays this damn much
When you’re a hitman for a living
You don't quit, you just lose your touch
I'm losing my touch, second guessing my aim
And even when I hit my mark, these days it don't feel the same
And I've made a killing outliving my conscious
And shunning my shame
I look at my list, the only one left is my name
I'm a hitman for a living, but I hit rock bottom today
Go and tally the cost, what I lost is twice what I gained
No comfort ain't coming to those who profit from pain
I look at my list, the only one left is my name
If I'm losing my touch, end my love for the game
It only seems right that I draw that line through my name
Sympathies keep up please, I ain’t down on my knees all the same
See I’m a hitman for a living, but I quit my living today
Yeah I'm a hitman for a living, but I quit my living today]
Reminds me of the movie "No Country for Old Men". Good song!
reminds me of when aunt gertrude farted at the dinner table...
Such talent comes from a soul that has seen what the rest fail to see .thank you sir well done
salute
I'm losing my touch
second guessing my aim
& even when I hit my mark these days
It don't feel the same"
This one hit me deep. 🔥
OMG the guy in the trunk, straight out of Goodfellas. Great song.
Yes. Its,quality music.
"Lonely tonight in a room filled with fame, empty glass of Kentucky Rye, and a good 'ole J-Frame!! I ponder my choices, my devilish ways. There's nothing I regret, just a few things I'd change. Like that night in Bolder, the 2 kids, and a plane. The contract was for the devil himself, take out his eyes, and leave his head on the shelf. A typical Tuesday for a Hitman like myself, but things went south when I walked through the door, it's a story I won't tell now or nevermore." This came to mind after listening Lol 👍🐱👤
What's this from? Feel like I should know
My head Lol I wrote it on the spot actually.
@@mikeoxlong3421 just saw your message, sorry for the delay.
@@joshmajor8662that's killer bruv. You've a great mind bud.
Nice song I´m from Rio Grande do Sul - Brazil
Oh hell ya
So it again. Please 🙏 excellent artist
Welcome to life when your shine looses its luster! Love this song.
Yes! Another Knife Fighter video!!!
This one hits hard brother much love from Australia 🇦🇺 ❤🥃
Hits pretty hard
He is the man
Yesssss! Damn it man.
Hands down my favorite artist at the moment
Thank you
I’ll tell ya I wish I could write half as good as this man.
Shewww! That's what I'm saying! I love this kinda writing,
Half as good as him would be better than 95% of what is out there now.
You have to live a life of experience.
This is my new favorite song I just can't stop playing it over and over
Been waiting a while for this one to come out! 👍🏻👍🏻
You are amazing!!! Following from México 🇲🇽🙌
Damn good song keep them coming
Thank you so much for this music, this lyrics and this video! It touched my soul deeply. Thanks! 🙏🙏🙏❤❤❤
Fucking love this guy.
Nice
It was always by the sword,,,
The real deal TLKF 🤘🏻
Hell yeah man!
Que linda Canción y el video genial.
Live it. Sharing.
One of the greats
Good music! Thanks!
🥃
Love this shit
Oh fuck yea
love your tunes
Powerful
Hell of a 🎵song
Subtitles are disabled, so I don't really understand what you're singing about right now, but I'm sure that the song is as worthy as ever. Субтитры отключены, по этому я плохо понимаю о чём ты брат сейчас поёшь, но уверен, что песня как и всегда достойная.
🍀
👏👏👏
Billy Summers
I had a 73 caddy same color hard top’
brooo a team up with Cody Jinks would be amazing. great voice man. love it
This is fuckin music
Toffee apple cider. For me
I appreciate the Goodfellas reference. Better off using the knife though, don't shoot through your car lol
@ 0:59
That actor guy in video^ iz about ta' go g'it him some?
Iffin ya down'd that dirty dingo intruder
You's a man n'ah!
Te'has lookes lika dangerous place dud'nt it?...;)
I used to do some pretty bad things when i ran in a 1%er club, the fed bit and rap sheet always haunt me, im sober now gave my life to jesus but fuck man i cant ever catch a damn break, i feel this guy is writing songs from my mind
Nice rip
The Rat ain't no friends with no damn Owel. The guitar chords look like /Em G /C / C with an F# in the bass
🇨🇵👍
I look at my list and the only name left is my name...🤣🤣🤣🤣
shit.. I just wanna drink with ya!!
Don't be a f****** quitter😅
Can't tell if he's a hipster or real drifter. But I'm leaning more on the hipster side. Beards too clean