Songtexte




Fire dangling thick
Can't see the right road
The street signs say
The eight day man
It might grind slow
But it grinds fine
Indian rope man, wide looking on
Dad's color clay, he's heavenly born
Retired mailman looks on in scorn
With a transplanted heart
Kiss him quick, he has to part
Indian rope man, he sees the time
Splitting loose the edge of mind
Catching losers in his line
In his line, yeah
Kiss him quick, he has to part
Indian rope man, he sees the time
Splitting loose the edge of mind
Catching losers in his line
In his line, yeah
Indian rope man, wide looking on
Dad's color clay, he's heavenly born
Retired mailman looks on in scorn
With a transplanted heart
Kiss him quick, he has to part



Autor(en): Mark Roth, Joe Price, Richie Havens Copyright: Warner-tamerlane Publishing Corp.



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