Tom Catmull and the Clerics: noise and words

He spent a life time of leavin' well enough alone fate had served him well and sat him right next to the rose of san antone she threw the highballs back like a sailor on short leave said to a slow pour "Don't be short shottin' me tonight, Im beggin darlin, please!" some folks give it away like a precedin' reputation some folks drop it like a yo yo and wind it on up with a grin sometimes african drums beat out bullshit dissertation to pull you in to pull you in she caught his eye with a dress too short for mama's knee she caught him lookin away too late for a stranger and too late for polite company the first set begins, a gently push, a gentle shove a gentle word to the wide-eyed stranger would be too late, he's fallen in love CHORUS a hill country mornin's like the warmth of gods right hand touchin a trailer park and settin the price on the soul and the worth of a man some people groom for love like its a one time here and gone some get the knife, some get the gun, some get the rose of san antone