Steve Keene piosenki

The guilty undertaker sighs, The lonesome organ grinder cries, The silver saxophones say I should refuse you. The cracked bells and washed-out horns Blow into my face with scorn, But it's not that way, I wasn't born to lose you. I want you, I want you, I want...

Well, I ride on a mailtrain, baby, Can't buy a thrill. Well, I've been up all night, baby, Leanin' on the window sill. Well, if I die On top of the hill And if I don't make it, You know my baby will. Don't the moon look good, mama, Shinin' through the trees?...