Here's a word about my ex-girlfriend Towards the end conflict off and on And I told her one night, "Honey every time we fight I'll write a verse to this song."
Well, things got bad, things got worse Still I struggled on So sit back and get all comfortable 'Cause this little tune's six fucking hours long
And every journey's got destinations Which the traveler can't expect So how's that I'm always winding up Down here at land's edge?
I don't know Alright, alright
Now if love is blind Why did her stockings always look so cool? Now I know I was paying attention But somehow I got fooled
Well, I gave her seven children And a twelve room uptown shack And when it all was over Took a dozen lawyers to get half back
But I already got me a new gal to ruin my life And she might just yet So I'm helping her find an apartment Down here at land's edge, yes I am
Alright Now let's continue our discussion
Now take the traveler and the tourist The essential difference is The traveler don't know where he's goin' And the tourist don't know where he is
Small world till they lose your luggage though Take the stripper who lives next door You'd swear this kid was twenty-one Goin' on forty-four
But luckily that ain't how she sees it Got a new tattoo that says: "When I die, send the body to heaven. Lost the rest at land's edge."Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.