Your looks could kill
There's a blackbird in the mirror ball
There's denim and steel
Scent of leather in the air
A lock of time and bone
Please release me from this endless
Bitter movie roll
I'm trapped in liquid blues
With your high heel shoes
I'm dancing on a tightrope
Led by midnight news
If my strings could speak another
Language of the shore
I would choose some French I guess
To take your body home
Or some German nocturnes
That could fill the summer air
With surprise and soft white lies
Black corroding spells
Fly me up again to reach
The southern Texas haze
I am late again for planes
And trains, I'm always late
I could pick up any line
Call anybody's phone
But the answer should would be
Babe, I'm stoned alone
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