Writing Hand

I heard they cut off your writing hand
That's what they do
To people like you

No one can see me in my backyard
I sit and smoke
And no one knows

And I'm afraid that there'll be no change
That things will stay
Exactly the same

I heard they cut off your writing hand
That's what they do
To people like you

And I'm afraid that there'll be no change
That things will stay
Exactly the same