You took the baby to your mother's end of June & kissed her for the last time On the bed in your old room Then up to Northfield in the Fairmont just you two You always drove the getaway So you wouldn't have to shoot & after a couple jobs like clockwork Where not one of you had slipped You were on your way back to Wisconsin Hit a deer & flipped
Came to on the pavement Bleeding hard from the crash Calling to no one He was as gone as the cash But there was the Ford flipped under an overpass The baby seat strapped in the back The windshield smashed & red streaked As an exploded dye pack & so you crawled in & you closed the door & laid on what was now the floor & swore that you would figure out the rest When it was morningTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
