me You can take my socks but you damn well better leave my gloves Cause I need my hands to be warm like everybody else?s Once my hands are warm I
Fourth Horseman of the apocaplyse For my esophagus breathes evil that just demolishes Abolishes, to the darkness of Mephastophales Mental enteral that went through an
But I'll take up the slack, support you, baby Now, the knight in shiny armor can only be me I cry out your name as you hold his hand If you're not mine
of here Where're you going? To the other side of the morning Please don't chase the clouds Pagodas, temples Her cunt gripped him Like a warm friendly hand
to the water and the water was boiling The load was heavy and rocks filled my course My horse drank the water and the water killed my horse I tried
after we rock The world is in my hand, but I'm in pandora's box Think the bigger picture is how I write my scripture (an immediate response) or maybe
Campfires, coffee from a tin cup in my hand Sure warms the fingers when it's cold Pickin' this ol' guitar, a friend I understand It sure smooth the wrinkles
on a branch on a high stream A songbird sings out so suddenly And the sun is warm and the soft winds ride On a willow tree by the riverside An the
royal blue I heard my friends laughing out across the fields The girls in the gloaming and the birds on the wheel The raw smell of horses and the warm
Keep me well shod. Examine my teeth when I do not eat, I may have an ulcerated tooth, and that, you know, is very painful. Do not tie my head in an unnatural
And let the fire water wash away the tears, burn like salt On open wounds, thoughts consume all consetions Give birth to these rhymes like an oral
Clydesdale, the Percheron vie With the shire on his feathers, floating Hauling soft timber into the dusk To bed on a warm straw coating Heavy horses
Clydesdale, the Percheron vie With the Shire on his feathers floating Hauling soft timber into the dusk To bed on a warm straw coating Heavy horses,
your ear From my heart so you'll clearly hear... There are people so dear... They're like children... Naked in a cold world... Beautiful children In an
clues Dogs still run roughly around Little tufts of finch-down) And the cities we passed were a flickering wasteland But his hand in my hand made them
North of the border of Old Mexico I rode one day to the cowtown of San Angelo A hot sun was glowing, a warm wind was blowing Still not as warm as the
fuck's cost [Incomprehensible] your loss in The Source 'cause I know no way I been there before, maybe 5-6 times a day Sometimes I put my hands on my
red In a few seconds Father will be dead Warm from the womb I will greet the stars Finally reborn and cleansed of my scars [C:] Two decades as an eremite
