The Rolling Stones — Ventilator Blues

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When your spine is cracking and your hands, they shake
Heart is bursting and you butt’s going to break
Your woman’s cussing, you can hear her scream
You feel like murder in the first degree
Isn’t nobody slowing down no way
Everybody’s stepping on their accelerator
Don’t matter where you are

Everybody’s going to need a ventilator
When you’re trapped and circled with no second chances
Your code of living is your gun in hand
We can’t be browed by beating, we can’t be cowed by words
Messed by cheating, isn’t going to ever learn

Everybody walking around
Everybody trying to step on their Creator
Don’t matter where you are, everybody, everybody going to
Need some kind of ventilator, some kind of ventilator
What you going to do about it, what you going to do?
What you going to do about it, what you going to do?
Going to fight it, going to fight it?