lyrics
You may have a shoe instead of a head, but at least you have a soul. And with your cured and leathery tongue, you can laugh and talk and sing, whereas with mine, except for crying, I can't do anything, and between my lungs and esophagus, I've got a little hole.
You may need a wire and a loop tool to succeed in pottery. And you may need a letter press to make records like Phil. But if all you wanted in your whole damn life was to see a bird with an ivory bill, then you'd best forget that letter press and climb the tallest tree.
Oh, Julia, my shoe-headed nearly-true love, I must say, dearie me! Just to sit atop the butte again and glare at Autzen's glow, or to drive out to the Blue River Dam just to see the stars like bitch, you don't even know. Just to sit in the Delta Oaks Wonder Wash, that's where I want to be.
And I don't have a lighter, and I don't have a heart. I've just got this hole between my lungs and esophagus, but I'll beat you at darts.
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