I would rather be buried in some cypress grove. I would rather be buried in some cypress grove. To have some woman, Lord, that I can't control. . And I'm goin' away now, I'm goin' away to stay.
I love my little cherry ball. Better than I love myself. I love my cherry ball. Better than I love myself. Then if she don't love me. She can't love nobody else.
Note: hyphen=word unsung. . I would ruther, be a little catfish. So I could swim way down. In the sea-ee. I would have somebody, somebody. Settin' out hooks for me.
Wish I was your child. Hold me in your heart. We could love so free. And no, we'd never part. . But I'm not a child. And wishes are. Just child's play, my love.
We were waltzing together to a dreamy melody. When they called out "Change partners". And you waltzed away from me. Now my arms feel so empty as I gaze around the floor.
The sidewalk coughed up weeds and cracks. A book, a magazine and a penny and a dime. Oh, and Carl looked behind him making sure the scene was empty. Breathed a sigh of bewilderment noting that it was.
Make a dent in the shovel, run the mud through a sieve. Paste your hopes on a windmill blade, plant it up on the hill. Pencil sharpened with a putty knife, pretty girl as a pretty nun.