Broken water always meant more babies, right?
It’s stalling and we’re nowhere near…
Jesus Christ, there’s no time for this on the freeway.
The fathers of some really lucky sons watch fountains spill over as good book people congregate.
It’s the tortoise and the bulldog crashing together.
And it’s the longest shot on the smallest plain where they see any action.
Cotton-cheeked men and the devil’s advocate see themselves reflected.
Coming with handouts or hands out is the only way anyone at all would be satisfied.
No contact after they broke the covenant and sent a lot of hoboes all over.
In New York, even up in the North Country near St. Louis.
There will always be someone willing to rest it on their own head, and even someone else’s. Straight to hell with what the man in white thinks.
The chance always comes back, I don’t know why they keep saying it doesn’t.
Just change the baby and get on with it, you’re running out of time.
This would fit a 45, but I doubt you’d need a 33 just for this one alone.
With a lot of others, though, it might have been worth pressing down for.
The paving here is totally eroded, but I’ll be dead before I come back through here.
Those guys in the next lane over have it pretty clear.
You’ve got to start somewhere, kid, might as well be here…
Broken water always means more babies, right? It’s stalling and we’re nowhere near…
Carter, Watts, and Zimmerman
