i strapped my memories to my back i'm leaving. i'm already gone. and i was on a train somewhere wishing sweet stings to you. to make you never forget
whispering He is dynamite Blows kisses Eats dirt His mouth of a volcano He is a t-shirt He stands on stilts But doesn't stand for funny stuff Ask me
looking for a harder crystal, I'm feeling for something smoother I'm listening for a starter pistol. three sheets to the wind and I'm using clouds for
time In a ?seafood? store sweepin floors for dimes I was sort of a porter takin the next man's order Breakin my back for ?a shack for headquarters? All my manpower for
