well i went way out North Carolina way to that old graveyard where my great grandmother lay and the day was bright and i hadn't slept all night and
the girl who'd been haunting your dreams all your life the butcher from brooklyn, the butcher's wife the girl who kissed you in the seventh grade her
i'm gonna drink more whiskey than brendan behan. and i'm gonna send my belongings all to tripoli. and i'm gonna ride home to california with a banjo
we had our passports out and the kits to fix 'em up with. and the hurricane lamp cast our shadows on the ceiling. i watched 'em box with one another
