| Song | Petersburg, Liberty Theater, 1914 |
| Artist | Swan Lake |
| Album | Beast Moans |
| If when you call she comes for you: give your all, boy...we shot the holes in the portable well:and that's why your boyfriend tracked usin the wastes that the demons of hell avoid as the road bendsand the pity of woman is the seed of our sainthood:born from a slack din done blasteddone, by the archangel's light, "I hate your new boyfriend!"we sow the songs the earth bears our wrong our pales wrongs all along! |