23.11.07

..:: haunting me ::..

Tom Waits, Cold Cold Ground



Gimme a winchester rifle and a whole box of shells
Blow the roof off the goat barn
Let it roll down the hill
The piano is firewood
Times square is a dream
I find well lay down together in the cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Cold cold ground
Call the cops on the breedloves
Bring a Bible and a rope
And a whole box of rebel
And a bar of soap
Make a pile of trunk tires
And burn em all down
Bring a dollar with you baby
In the cold cold ground
Cold cold ground

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