Text:
Hart Beth Screamin For My Supper

jar in the back of my limousine And they'd call me an icon And I'd be lookin' back at you from the cover of the People magazine And I guess it's all for

She got a poet's spirit She bums among the clouds She never stops believing She only dreams out loud There's a jackpot in the dresser She's fallen in

Just remember I'll remember & mama mama I'll get by Confused by my own illusions She said that it's only my pride & even the simplest solutions Still won't heal my

go there Wish me luck give me somethin' Help me out and I'll go there All I want is a brand new truck With one eyed jacks and beginners luck The doctors script for

It's cold where I lay Bones cracked to clay A killer's in the way Hot is my shame Fire pulls my veins For never is my name Forever in my shame Holy come