Chris

Well, I was born in a small town. I was born in a cross-fire hurricane And I howled at my ma in the driving rain. Goodbye to all my friends at home. Goodbye to people I've trusted. I've got to go out and make my way. The time has come to let the past be history. I took it all for granted.But how was I to know. Boys and things that come by the dozen. You ask about my consience. And I offer you my soul. Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future. I brought you a crate of papaya. Then waited all night by your door. If you need somebody, call my name. If you want someone, you can do the same. We decided that we would have a soda. My favorite flavor, cherry red.