500 miles to wichita from here. that's a long way to walk
especially in this hot rain
500 miles means 500 long hours from any kind of love, which means i'll swallow up the whole field before i fill up anyway with sweet sorrow (i move slowly).
some lover who will swing from the trees with me
feed me rock candy and butter cookies, drowning the city fish in the lake
we go to church on sundays now, not just for christmas. my ******* are pink how he likes them and we go swimming whenever we want
not just on sundays
everything is green in kansas, warm and sweeter than molasses.
some lover who is going to sing this to me will meet me in the pasture where we slaughter the pigs and the chickens
making melodies from the police sirens
we can't stand cold water, now
and we can't see in the rain
when we're here in wichita
no longer so far away.