Thursday, January 8, 2009

Sally and The Still

I hurt no more.
Desire overcoats it,
and taint wall paper I am talking.
When I want it, I gotta have it.

Were my soul a drink, it would be bourbon.
My barrels are smoked and aged.
My mash is heavy duty.
If you're a tea toddler, you'll bake in heaven.
If you're a drunkard, you won't survive me.

Look into my eyes, they're a far cry from the porch.
Look deep and tell me what you think is missing.
My barns are dark, my back and arms are strong,
my calloused hands are quick sand.
I'm like no woman you've ever known.
I'm not a woman to mess with.

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