Text:
Hersh Kristin Hips And Makers

Rocking on the ocean Sucking up the sea Every bird flies over me We have hips and makers We have a good time I married a boxer to keep me from fighting

alleys Between us is nothing but grace Snow rides the wind down And drives past the window Falling all over your face I fly out the window And then

You can't make it You can't cry You can't make it home tonight It's to far to walk To your goddamn van It's too hard to come by your hand Drunk on

(Instrumental)

Ridge Seen the Shenandoah rolling there I stepped off the mountains edge Just to climb the golden stair I seen the streets up there I been on the mount transfiguration Been there with my Ma and

waterfall That cloud stomps around my house Does whatever it pleases It teases me What I said was get me a drink Alright? What am I supposed to sit And

cry I won't go home So here's the story I am turning up in circles And I'm spinning on my knuckles Don't forget that there are circles left undone And

She don't ever hollar cuckcoo Till the fourth day of July Jack o' Diamonds Jack o' Diamonds I know you, of old You rob my poor pockets Of silver and

If I walk down this hallway Tonight, it's too quiet So I pad through the dark And call you on the phone Push your old numbers And let your house ring