a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

gold buick - very old morris lyrics

Loading...

pretty soon, barring weather
i’ll ride the fulton county fair
i ain’t seen eight in half a decade
but won a car last i was there
the sound of hooves, the smell of pumpjacks
will lead me, heavy on the air
and i’ll break a heart, a couple bones i’ve got to spare

and once all my party money’s spent
while i still prize myself a cynic yet
go on around once, scrounging upper hands
and swear i pride myself on it

and haul an empty one*horse trailer
70 south to matador
hitched to a gold buick lesabre
a kind of rolling metaphor
a broken nose and weary angels
a silver buckle and a burner phone
eight ball for luck, silver bullet for the road

- very old morris lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular

Loading...