Tragic

For his pleasure he sits sweating ⁄
The ghost of a man who now haunts himself ⁄
Hear the steady tick of time like a levee ⁄
Holding in his troubled mind ⁄
He was proud he was strong ⁄
Now he's counting back the days to what went wrong ⁄
A pipe a dream a fearful scream ⁄
All these FBI agents hiding in your pine trees ⁄

Lord it is tragic ⁄

Burning faster than a fuse lit from both ends ⁄
He spirals down ⁄
At the ready with a list of excuses ⁄
Most of his friends they don't know him now ⁄
The family's tired and confused ⁄
He's still trying to make an offer they can't refuse ⁄
Is he clean is he free ⁄
Are those FBI agents still hiding in his pine trees? ⁄

Lord it is tragic

See also:
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37
37.40
The Hellacopters Bullet Lyrics
Jimmy Page & Robert Plant When The World Was Young Lyrics