You tell no-one, nobody. Beating on you, no defenses. False faces, bloody wallet. Ripping out your head, put on my clothes. No, I wouldn't want you. Where the blood is all washed off.
There's a woman sitting in a motel room counting minutes. and she's adding to her list of, "one hour loves.". She's tired and the new will do, she'll replace the body,.
I'm not impressed, I guess I'm not impressed. With which dialect, which dialect marches best. And who reaches Heaven, in what order. When our kids are baptized in mortar.
rowboat. row me to the shore. she don't. wanna be my friend no more. she dug a hole. in the bottom of my soul. she don't. wanna be my friend no more. .