Hoots Hellmouth - Lyrics | Lyrfan.com

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Hoots & Hellmouth

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apple like a wrecking ball
being borned again
city lights on a country ceiling
dishpan hands

great day in the morning
i don t mind your cussing
lay low
ocean open wide

shorthand for a natural man
the ache
west of where the sun goes down
why would you not want to go there

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