That sky is a-shine with sheen, those eyes are a green machine...
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Spare me your whining...
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In my rainy gazebo tree...
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Deep in my silver pit...
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The walls are all thick with it...
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My, but you slay me...
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In my rainy gazebo tree...
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Bless my baby eyes, don't you know Jesus died?...
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I'm better off inside...
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Strip and you lose your hide...
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What's in that thermos man?...
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Your female's a garbage can...
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So you haven't filled her up...
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OK try to fill my cup...
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It's moonshine from cactus...
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Well, I guess it can't wreck us...
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Spare me your moon shining in my rainy gazebo tree...
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Gazebo Tree
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| Kristin Hersh |
