Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren't very new after all.
Abraham Lincoln
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Mcgreggor
Ooh
There was lying at the table
Crying on the stairs
A raven on the gables singing
'Jesus doesn't care'
A woman at the window
With her hands on her hips
Staring out across the ocean
Like the prow of a ship
No blinking or emotion
Like the prow of a ship
Just endeavor and devotion
Like the prow of a ship,
Oh rest in your bed
Oh, McGreggor's dead
The kids were in the kitchen
Carving up the will
When the long line of limousines
Snake down the hill
They think they're winning
And shaking hands with the prodigal
And pompous who knew the man
Father figures and ************s
Who knew the man
God's torment at the party
As if God knew the man
Oh, rest in your bed
Oh, McGreggor's dead
Recall his lies
Pick up the pen
Record his reign
For the ***** that bore him
Is in heat again
Oh