Well you're not from around here. You're probably not our kind. It's hot from March to Christmas. And other things you'll find. . (). Won't fit your old ideas.
Pour the wine and think it over. In this nest of noise. Then cut them off like criminals. They were crazy boys. I will be your witness in the. Morning and the dark.
Five cans of paint in the empty fields. The dust reveals. . The children cry, the work never ends. There's not a single friend. . Who will hold her hand in the sunken lands?.
When you're like a broken bird tell heaven. Battered wings against the dark and day. When your worries won't let you sleep tell heaven. When the tears won't ever go away.
Dark highways and the country roads. Don't scare you like they did. The woods and winds, they'll welcome you. To the places you once hid. . (). You grew up and you moved away.
I went to Barcelona on the midnight train. I walked the streets of Paris in the pouring rain. I flew across and island in the Northern Sea. And I ended up in Memphis, Tennessee.
What's the temperature darling? 100 and more. The horses pawing out the dust, but it's Wilton by the door. But you pour your strongest coffee and I'll take back of the wheel.