Из альбома: Phantom Limb

In the smallest hours of the morning
while I was busy dreaming
of tender hearted girls
and a world without end
forever and ever amen

My father was quietly taking
the money I was making
from the dog eaten wallet
he gave me that year

Our blood is our own
but it does what it pleases
there ain't much more to say
I'm alive on the highway
dead on arriving
thats no way to live this life

We lay on a mexican blanket
by a carillon and some roses
and I was an owls ghost
who died on the side of the road

She laid her head on my shoulder
she nibbled on my earlobe
and that was about all

My blood was my own
and it done what it pleased to
there ain't much more to say
I'm alive on the highway
dead on arriving
thats no way to live this life

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