old oak tree, we were sitting on a bench "Will you marry me?" The wind blew across my face. It blew dust up like we were out on the desert plains.
want the (horns) Then I'll give you the (horns) [Repeat] [Verse 2: Prozak] Schizophrenic thoughts spin around my mind sorta like rotisserie Spittin this wicked ministry to the beat of this rebeck's symphony
Desert storm He gazes at the clouds Sand on black wings of death He prayed for nightfall not unexpected fury The sound of tornadoes, a black symphony
Feet on the dashboard Head on the window Moon on a desert tree I will, I will I will stand in your light again Heard me a memory Out on the avenue Where