Went out in Norfork, hung on a short short Livin' with a bottle of wine With music ladies and burned out babies I was tryin' to write a couple of lines
Sherriff Gribbs with his grim ad libs Spoutin' about the crime in the street And women were screamin' and some was dreamin' 'Bout the crimes between the sheets
You know that music died, hurt my pride But somehow I pulled through, back in '72 Somehow we made it to Baton Rouge We stayed inside for a week We weren't in town for no Mardi Gras So we decided to sleep Houston, yes, was a good old guest Lord knows how bad we wanted to play But we got homesick for Lincoln Park, imagine And man we just couldn't stay
Tricky Dick, he played it slick Something I was afraid he'd do, back in '72 Then all the new born philosophers Are windows for the world Then some mystic psuedo-intellectual Avant-garde-ish world Takin' notes on that ? That got me down on the scene It was so hip to be negative So square to try and believe
When the waters cleared, it was what we feared We learned nothin' new, Back in '72Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
