You better find your way out
You better learn how to run
You better walk away
And leave the angles for the shills
Well I've been thinking for days
About the means and the ways that I could
Hate all I touch
I know you're my lady but I could trickle
I could flood
A voice coach taught me to sing
He couldn't teach me to love
All the above
Easy talkin' border blockin' transport is arranged
Praise the grammar police
Set me up with your niece
Walk to Baltimore
And keep the language off the street
Well I'm of several minds
I am the worst of my kind
I wanna cremate the crutch
I know you're my lady
But phone calls could corrupt the morning
I heed the surgeon's warning pillars of eights
I swung my fiery sword
I vent my spleen at the lord
He is abstract and bored
Too much milk and honey
Well I'll waltz through the wilderness with nothing
But a compass and a canteen
Settin' the scenes
Easy walkin' border blockin' transport is arranged
