You may be in New York clutching your heart but I'm down in the valley with the banjo cats. Were in deep, licking our lips, dancing to the Moon Shadow Dodge. We go traipsing in the bugwallow to drink long island teas from the maple wood all thick and sappy.
It will be a long overture till the night crawlers come out to sing with us. Punctuating the firefall with that Georgia bred Speed Crackle. But you wouldn't know nothing bout that... in your fancy pants and slick goodbyes and "Oh hey there" hellos.
You don't know nothin! Not of pretty girls or good music. So I suppose we should feel sorry for you... praying you don't find yourself in all the wrong places.
But thats where I leave you, clutching your heart, taking three steps back and going nowhere.
copyright(C)Abby Johnson
(aka Elliot Spicer)
Name your shadow
- Elliot Spicer
- I'm developing my alchemy. Strategically building a sensitive antenna to listen to the dying words of stars.
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