Fuzzy Sun

What you call a pain 
I call weeding out 
And what you call the rain 
Comes out of my mouth 

Fuzzy sun 
Gets you one by one 
Fuzzy sun 
Gets the job well done 

Rolling drunks for their cigarettes 
Frightening babies that aren't born yet 

You feel I've passed you by 
You feel that you've been robbed 
Well nothing will feel worse 
Than dying on the job 

Fuzzy sun 
When you have come undone 
Fuzzy sun 
A boy must have his fun 

A cigarette to brand a baby's arm 
A bit of ash in his face keeps him warm