You better find your way out

                       

You better learn how to run

         

You better walk a-way

              

And leave the angles for the shills

                  

   Well I've been thinkin' for days

                        

About the means and the ways

         

That I could hate all I touch

       

I know you're my lady



                 

But I could trickle, I could flood

                   

A voice coach taught me to sing

                        

He couldn't teach me to love

        

All the above



Easy talkin', border blockin'



Transport is arranged





Praise the grammar police

                    

Set me up with your niece

        

Walk to Baltimore

                

And keep the language off the street

              

   Well I'm of several minds

                     

I am the worst of my kind

             

I wanna cremate the crutch

       

I know you're my lady

    

But phone calls could corrupt the mornin'

  

I heed the surgeon's warnin'

           

Pillars of eights





I swung my fiery sword

                        

I vent my spleen at the Lord

        

He is abstract and bored

            

Too much a milk and honey

     

Well I'll waltz

                           

Through the wilderness with nothin'

                    

But a compass and a canteen

            

Settin' the scenes



Easy talkin', border blockin'

                       

Transport is arranged



By:GloriaRock