Oh well, you've got me under your spell and I don't think that I'm kidding around. I don't think I can forget you now. I once sat up on my roof and examined
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The moon hangs like the blade of an axe tonight, and it's poised to drop sometime soon enough on this dump truck where I lie mixed up with the morning
And now I finally see that the further we go We're only treading ground that we already know I could write you a song, send you a note or empty out your
Her life was magazines and faithful TV screens selling an empty dream of cars and calories and everything in between the sun and Saturn's ring, but the
The last time that I saw you, August of '99, I should've had my hammer and a few rusty spikes to nail you on a wall and use bottles to catch your blood
This song will become the anthem of your underground. Your two floors down getting high in the backroom. If I flooded out your house do you think you
As I'm talking my words slip to the floor and they crawl through your legs and slide under the back door rendering me freakish and dazed. Well here I
If you've got a quarter you can stick in my neck and I'll sing whatever song you want for whatever mood you're in. Isn't that what you expect? I can sing
And I will flail under these lights that seep down from the bitter sky tonight and I will kick and beat my wrists together and feel an ocean breathing
I said I'd walk you home after our third round Of pouring whiskey down the barrel of our guts I grabbed hold of your hand. We're up and we're out and
ease the plugs out of the dam. And we still stand knee deep in the flow, the undertow will grab our heels and won't let go. And while we hold, our legs
My gut is burning. Won't you find me some water? Hey, just forget it can you bring me gasoline and collect a couple forks, hold them three feet apart
The moon hangs like the blade of an axe tonight, and it's poised to drop sometime soon enough on this dump truck where <a href="http://www.testimania
