Lyrics

I got a welded-on grin and a mausoleum tan
And I know these old woods like the back of my hand
My steel-toed boots got a preference for blood
And when it mixes with the dirt, it makes an awful red mud

With all my innocence lost
There's a line to the gallows
And I'll be granted no quarter
With a name like Drifter

It's so bitter fucking cold that a body could freeze
Swinging by its neck from a sycamore tree
'Cause when I found her, she'd already been long gone
Her skin colder than the ground she was lying upon

With all my innocence lost
There's a line to the gallows
And I'll be granted no quarter
With a name like Drifter

Now they call me a murderer and want me dead
With a bounty and a target on the back of my head
The church bells screaming of justice so loud
As my bloody red boots swing out over the crowd

With all my innocence lost
There's a line to the gallows
And I'll be granted no quarter
With a name like Drifter