Oh first things first: how have you been? It's been way too long since I've seen your perfect face is lost in time I see your hand is shaking but so
She shot her man, a-he'd been doin' her wrong, so wrong Well, bring out the rubber tired (hearse) so long You gotta bring out your pony and trap Yeah
winds blow And a heart would beat in 'Babbacombe' Lee I was born to lead a life of sorrow I've friends hang their heads in shame Growing tired and weary
In the chest of a dealer hammers And smelts a foul charge As he smoothes sour cream from his moll's pony And metes her an unholy barrage (O, the living
rub the pony's hair, Come let's rub the pony's hair, Lots of ponies that we can ride Round and round and round. Now let's climb on the pony's back, Now
In the chest of a dealer hammers and smelts a foul charge, as he smoothes sour cream from his moll's pony and metes her an unholy barrage, (o the living
care She shot her man, a-he'd been doin' her wrong, so wrong Well, bring out the rubber tired (hearse) so long You gotta bring out your pony and trap
