#badsongclub #timermanagement #amateurblues

Well you come into the market, With a chain around your neck, You're asking for the sheriff, Cos he wouldn't sign the check, Make it count, Lord, almighty, Make it count, You're so quick to tell your story, With a whisper or a shout, And it's too late to say your sorry, Once the train is pulling out, Make it count.

You're a two time triple loser, With a belly full of stout, Serving day for day, Not a chance of getting out, Make it count, Hey, hey, make it count, They sentenced you to hard time, You know what that's about, You'll never walk with three strikes, Until you learn the route, Make it count.

You better call a doctor, With a title on his breast, You caint see past the demon, When he's sittin' on your chest, Make it count, Keep you story straight, Make it count, It don't really matter, If you take the deal or roll, When you're running with the devil, Got a claim against your soul, Make it count.