Run down saloon,
I'm the only one left Those back wing doors could never hold you
back
White leather boots,
razor like spurs
I'm counting your steps until you breathe down my neck
And till I'm gone,
I won't make it home alive
Alive
You're like a snake,
my butt just sweeped like apple jacks
I wish I could run,
but it's too late, too late for that
And driving me mad, cos you were my medicine
I wish I could run, but I'm a
sorcerer for your sin
Ripped at him shorts,
they wrapped you in tight
Down next to me, I know
the damage is done, right?
Your looks are lethal,
thick hair frayed rope
A mouth made of buckskin and a
serpentine tongue
You're like a snake,
my butt just sweeped like apple jacks I wish I could run,
but it's too late,
too late for that And driving me mad,
cos you were my medicine I wish I could run,
but I'm a sorcerer for your sin
I want you to run on my page,
run your mouth through my veins
Out of Rotterdam,
Jan van Dijkhaven