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Kelly Joe Phelps
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Slingshot Professionals
Lyricist:Kelly Joe Phelps
Calculated entry in the class of circumspection Reasoning, bargaining the last few drams of spirits The serum of one's foolishness, oh, and truth be told in a cold pint head Sixteen ounces of pure warlord dripping down the side of the glass
Yeah, we're marching 'cross the family's land with bagpipes and drums Oh, the skirts are flying high, me boys, let's bust 'em in the shins No matter nothing knowing, nothing owing, save the garden, save Of a crooked, hobbled, garish man, oh, sundown in his eyes Oh, in his eyes
Fifty year old walking stick worn through the lion's head Carried proud like a saber on a limestone statuette Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com Oh, the littles can't decide which to lust for, which to desecrate Imagination sits still with marbles in a drawer
Lotta slingshots, song and dancing, blasting out lead paned windows Then the wing whipped curtains sway this way like giant Mockingbirds Those damned lads and lasses have forgotten how to play Hard pressed to find one, hard pressed to find one Who ever learned how to sing
Slingshot Slingshot Slingshot
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