Cinco de Mayo. Blow out, denial. It wasn't fun this time, letting you go.
What if I never, a bullet forever, held out my hand to you, we wouldn't
Have known beautiful flow, absolute measure, I ain't no pleasure hound
Bus' out of control, ploughing the road, out on a bender, just Alice falling
Down a deepening hole.
I'd never been to Rome until you smiled.
You're about as old and piled.
I used to pray for snow ...
Now I just wonder what spell I was under, thinking you thought of me as
Something to hold.
I'd never been to Rome until you smiled.
You're about as old and piled.
Cinco de Mayo. Burn-out, Ohio. It wasn't me this time, letting you go
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