Repris, för vackerhetens skull

I'll take a rusty nail and scratch your initials in my arm
and I'll show you how to sneak up on the roof of the drugstore
I'll take the spokes from your wheelchair and a magpie's wings
and I'll tie em to your shoulders and your feet
I'll steal a hacksaw from my dad and cut the braces off your legs
and we'll bury them tonight out in the cornfield
just put a church key in your pocket we'll hop that freight train in the hall
we'll slide all the way down the drain to New Orleans in the fall

(Berättelsen om Tom Waits och hans rullstolsburna lilla barndomsbästis. Så gulligt. Jag börjar alltid gråta vid partiet om skatvingarna.)


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