EagleEye0 Posted September 1, 2005 Report Share Posted September 1, 2005 Paper bag What a Drag Never Full for Kelly and I As tourists toss an empathetic sigh She vacantly gazes into the western sun As I ask myself what can be done An ailing Kelly And an unfed belly Engeneders the tale of my failing Milky twilight splashes us Kelly, chokes, “Troy, will I bite the dust?’ No, Kelly you’re doing well As I request God to spare her hell “What’s the price for happiness any how?†Two more shillings than we’re making now This money constantly evades me There must be something to save me And Kelly God Damn it!†From this curable ailment But You Strike me down Back down Upon this dusty lane With two dead ends Without an opportunity to make amends Strewn with empty beer bottles And emaciated Youth Please God, Tell me the Truth Will Kelly Die? And reside along the poor roadside For the rest of me years to lament Kelly’s youth with guilty tears Of potential careers, memorable cheers We shared together An amber robe of morning mist unfurled across the sky I gave Kelly a kiss and bid her farewell and tossed a sigh Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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