down in sympathy outsides run against the grain in streams after all the dreams started words just showed up on the page each day speak ing volumes out
in vacant lots Down dark pathways Special paintings line the wall The ghastly glow of broken saints The cheeks of working flames burn blue And spit out
did You Kiss Right Now We sing and scream it seems our dreams are spools of string and pigs with wings You see I'm gumming up My belly is full of babies
Small Body on the Road Coat still sheened with Spring It's eyes still black And soft and warm and clean It's legendary quickness of feet Too slow for
back to her side. just one throught through all time to me his way to her side to me his way to her side her side her side (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies
Oh Man you've got a fuckin nail in your brain Turn it left until the fleas can come out Thimble thumbnail Showered Cuts And rip the power out And bring
on the tables are turning it sounds like you've said this hundred times each louder, more boring, and high... (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies for these
a dirt free proposition all signs of those who left (4x) all signs of those who left (6x with more powerful instruments) (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies
things, start praving, Say goodbye three times it's just a waste of waste of time. All your ladies kneel down and say: Ooh (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies
s big dinner. look at their faces and down into their eyes and the vacant, glaring, certainty of nothing, ever, anywhere (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies
a mother's love, a murder in his pocket, with no skin cover up. ride, he rides, two-bit thief, train down South serpent tongue (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies
skin, the memory half dust, just shapes of fading rust, that moves when she's alone, and speaks to no one home (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies for these
when I did you wrong and all those words not quite light as lead It's right up front and fed All my mistakes sleep on the sun three little birds made
turn out right Everywhere the sky is scaly gray get on your feet and move quietly wild scrapping on the floor and scraping into bits I hope that you turn out
the wall standing the right way your smile turns into grimace and your face is at it's thinnest and you bruise (Thanks to Made Out Of Babies for these
waiting up, I'm willing burns are fine they're serious, the things I see your mouth saying the words come out. run, run for your life, run for the take
high and go low Now girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor I'm here for one night, how far would you go? I wanna see you work out for me, work out
telephone 'Cause I'm out in the club and I'm sippin' that bubb' And you're not gonna reach my telephone My telephone, m-m-my telephone 'Cause I'm out
