Wake up butterfly. The sun's fallen down. The clouds are rollin' over. And we still got many miles to go. . From winter days come starless nights. The constellations frown.
Lost souls, you and I, my dear. Whiskey bottle and a 45, my dear. We're on a roll, suitcase and cellophane my dear. Whiskey bottle and a 45 satisfies, my dear.
Oh no, why are you always complaining?. Burning bright but you're bone tired. And fading out. . Better to watch you hoist the above. Always fails to keep the rain out.