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Wadin' through the waste stormy winter, |
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And there's not a friend to help you through. |
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Tryin' to stop the waves behind your eyeballs, |
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Drop your reds, drop your greens and blues. |
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Thank you for your wine, California, |
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Thank you for your sweet and bitter fruits. |
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Yes I got the desert in my toenail |
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And I hid the speed inside my shoe. |
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I want you to come on, come on down Sweet Virginia, |
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I want you come on, honey child, I beg of you. |
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I want you come on, come on down, you got it in you. |
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(honey child) |
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Got to scrape the shit right off you shoes. |
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But Come on, come on down Sweet Virginia, |
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Come on, honey child, I beg of you. |
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Come on, come on down, you got it in you. |
|
(honey child) |
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Got to scrape that shit right off you shoes. |
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But Come on, come on down Sweet Virginia, |
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Come on, honey child, I beg of you. |
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Come on, come on down, you got it in you. |
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(honey child) |
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Got to scrape that shit right off you shoes. |
