We wake up,. Soft denims on the floor.. Spent nights late,. Sleepin back to the fall.. . Don't even, you fall the few.. You don't quit, heads back the ceiling..
The prophet's here, the prophet's here.. Oh, it's no use.. Bend down into the grass, down into the grass for me.. . The prophet's come, the prophet's good in stone..
How many trees to the west of here.. How many smokes left have you got.. I wanna stand but I'm talking to a cop.. There's piss on my boots, how'd you make it stop..
On the Rio,. Rode the sparrow,. Drank the marrow,. Spade the clerics. . I spent all day Saturday toasted,. Roasting in your room. . Fall fine,. Skin tight,.
The last time that I saw you. You had me housed up on your red, red road. Stranded in the housing of our move in house in. We were going to hit every port and every cape town.
I will harbor you around.. I may drive you down.. There are promises I'll make.. There are promises that I'll take away.. . But I won't beg for you on acetate..