Building my life with out a wife
So many things to do
The screaming noise of the acetylene tourch
Keeps calling out to you
Gypsy wagon done and gone
Many to count are boats
Making a little screaming car
is one more thing I persue.
Flooded house and pouring rain
I grow from naught I know
Silence in the night is lame
but noise of what is not mine
A girl I would not never know
Is but a fleeting thought
To never love is not a crime
or to dance away the hours
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