Robert Mackenzie
32 men on a Great Lakes boat
Quit the pier
Up against this wall
Or right here in this car
Or anywhere
Well I was born up north of Great Slave, 1898
After the guns are silentAfter your wounds have healedAfter those
Gray socks and black shoes, black hair and eyes so
I'm the desert, you're the rainWhen I'm cracked and dry
Well, I did see a man on a bicycleriding through
If one kiss from you could have lasted foreverThen I
Don't call me for supper if you don't mean to
Something in the way you talkmaybe baby, just the way
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