|
Eyed it, dried it, untied it |
|
Chilled it, spilled it, refilled it |
|
Taste it, traced it, erased it |
|
He's my post to lean on |
|
And I just cut him down |
|
So I'm out to land on somethin' |
|
Hopefully a boy will come to me at the ground |
|
Eyed it, dried it, untied it |
|
Chilled it, spilled it, refilled it |
|
Taste it, trace it, erased it |
|
He's my post to lean on |
|
And I just cut him down |
|
So I'm out to land on somethin' |
|
Hopefully a boy will come to me at the ground |
|
He's my post to lean on |
|
And I just cut him down |
|
So I'm out to land on somethin' |
|
Hopefully a boy will come to me at the ground |