Lemon gin, corn fields plowed under
Cigarettes, Southern Comfort
With your frien
All the flowers fade
And all the star?s pale
As this bitter
You took your brownie hawkeye
And pointed it up at the
Dance, locust, dance
The prophets shrug their shoulders as
Calamity's child lost
It was in your basement apartment
With all of its earth
Honey, I don't know why I get so mean
Honey, I
You betray your heart
When all your charm has faded
You say
Well, I got your invitation
But it never crossed my mind
Your
Lamps and kerosene, up in the north country
The air is
Drunk again, six p.m.
Beautiful, ugly weekend
Stayin' out and sleeping in
Love
It hurts, love hurts
Words, there are no words
I was sorry
Your smoking gun was lying in my arms
When you told
How can we leave at a time like this?
You know
We're the fugitives of American portions
Caught on the sleeves, yesterday's
I've been stunned by the clarity
Of your peripheral vision
Now I
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