The tender breathing belly of an orange under-cloud the scrutiny of a streetlamp over me Drew a breath of smoke from the heavy autumn air just outside the courthouse finally free Pawned a driftwood clarinet and a silver chain I had bought a greyhound ticket heading west Underneath the blanket of a lost and found box jacket My head against the window trying to rest
Gonna scar my face in a different place or maybe wear my hat down low Pull a stick-up job on some five and dime Keep slithering town to town
I shuffled along the shoulder of an unmarked road stopped to catch my breath outside Des Plaines slipped into a Laundromat to grab some baggy clothes then slept out on the ashtray by the lake The very next evening in some half-deserted bar some black-eyed Molly bought me watered drinks a couple hours later, swapped stories in her kitchen while waiting for leftovers to reheat
Gonna change my ways Try and be some place Gonna fight the urge to go Find an honest job at some nine to five and maybe stick around
Early the next morning, she called a friend of her late husband's a foreman at a plastics factory Got me some shit job for under the table cash just until I got back on my feet I could picture Molly through two black eyes crying even though I hadn't wronged her yet Every time I'd ever managed landing on my feet I'd be looking for a cozy place to sit
Cut my fingers trimming flash, burned both of my hands the foreman came to ride me about the rate The hopper wound up jammed. I over-filled the press. The foreman sent me home for the day I couldn't face Molly, so I walked around for hours before I started fixing to leave a day or two later, I read in some paper about a fire at that factory
Gonna scar my face in a different place or maybe wear my hat down low Pull a stick-up job on some five and dime Keep slithering town to town Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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