I can't tell her from myself
she's stepping watching the sidewalk not,
instead of sun, in a mil headlights caught
and that's a wild wild side
following slow
the wind and the snow
like velvet ash on the table overwhelmed with glass.
I can't tell her from myself
she's quite content with the sky in its fall
the whole world it would all but appall
but it's the wild wild side.
"The rains turning steady,"
we heard on the radio.
ought to feel lite enough
slowly piling up
like velvet ash on the table overwhelmed with glass.
Near ash-trays, no single bit loth,
we then plummeted both
seeking shelter in phonebook pages
of thousand records and names
that I can't tell from mine.
But it were you, unsurpassed,
twain with the wind burning down to dust
like velvet ash on the table overwhelmed with glass.
Wild wild side. (x3)
Original: altwall.net/texts.php?show=tequilajazzz&number=39920
Original/audio: kroogi.com/player/iframe/365287?locale=en
Original/video: www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLNyemCDt5s