. Better stay out of sight. I'm weak my love, and I am wanting. If this is the path I must trudge. I'll welcome my sentence, give to you my penance. Garroter, jury, and judge. Chorus. But the story is this
even none But let me tell you, with buzz cuts looking horrible and tom needing de-lousing. With the finest olive snowsuits on and goggles for reflected sun. We sing old fashioned songs and trudge
have them back son when you’ve paid off your mortgage and loans. Oh hell with this place, I’ll go it my own way. I’ll stick out my thumb and I trudge down the highway. Someday someone must be going my
