It's noon in the belly of June. Let's wager with bodies, the night's coming soon. Come like a lover to me, let's lay in the dark and meet the birds and the bees. A scene at the past county fair. She swore to his face: “There's no rib that we share!” Please won't you leave her alone. She's telling you boy, you don't know when to go. She's had enough she sadly sung: “We're no longer young, we're lazy and lithe, and our age makes us dumb. Don't call on me, paltering and pale, with sin on your mind, and dirt under your nails.” Well, he holds to a vow just because. Lamenting a love that never was. It's a thing that's never tested or tried. In a June that up and bloomed and quickly died. Between the two and under the sun, it's a war that's always fought and is never won. Between the two and under the light, at last she's never convinced and won't stay the night.
Writer(s): Justin Wayne Ringle
Copyright: Bird Of Terror O.B.O. Grand Jean Songs (ASCAP)
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