It holds no water, my water bed, where metal crumbles at my breath.
The powders hard the needles soft if I have lost you then I have lost.
A hobo needs his *****, blues and shoes.
A country reflecting on its past is no country at all but a country bound to run into a wall.
Rain was washing the money clean and the river washed it all down the stream.
When lightning struck the house last night it didn’t **** anybody just scared them right.