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Doors, The - Angels And Sailors

Angels and sailors
Rich girls
Backyard fences
Tents

Dreams watching each other narrowly
Soft luxuriant cars
Girls in garages, stripped
Out to get liquor and clothes
Half gallons of wine and six-packs of beer
Jumped, humped, born to suffer
Made to undress in the wilderness.


I will never treat you mean


Never start no kind of scene


I'll tell you every place and person that i've been.


Always a playground instructor, never a killer


Always a bridesmaid on the verge of fame or over


He manouvered two girls into his hotel room


One a friend, the other, the young one, a newer stranger


Vaguely mexican or puerto rican


Poor boys thighs and buttock scarred by a father's belt


She's trying to rie


Story of her boyfriend, of teenage stoned death games


Handsome lad, dead in a car


Confusion


No connections


Come 'ere


I love you


Peace on earth


Will you die for me?


Eat me


This way


The end


I'll always be true


Never go out, sneaking out on you, babe


If you'll only show me far arden again.


I'm surprised you could get it up


He whips her lightly, sardonically, with belt


Haven't i been through enough? she asks


Now dressed and leaving


The spanish girl begins to bleed


She says her period


It's catholic heaven


I have an ancient indian crucifix around my neck


My chest is hard and brown


Lying on stained, wretched sheets with a bleeding virgin


We could plan a murder


Or start a religion.
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