|Make It Right, Devil Eyes|
by Gregory Wilde  /  poetry  /  21 Sep 2007
You're gonna go out
and get yourself a new reputation,
sick of trying for retribution,
so you wanna run for Hong Kong;
I don't know anywhere from here,
the cab drivers and the dealers,
oh, the soul food and the discos,
what is there to run from?
So you wanna go get yourself a reputation,
sleeping with all those sailors,
in the Meat Rack Tavern;
what you need is society,
bleeding through your ears;
what you trying to run from?
All we got is right here,
the dancehalls and painted walls,
oh, the drunks and the needles in the park;
what you trying to do to me honey?
Can't you see I'm good for only two?
Why you want to ruin me honey?
And you can't set sail too soon,
all the hippies and ringleaders,
in the Venice Beach sun,
oh, what you want now sugar?
We gotta fight traffic at dawn,
but you wanna go and get yourself a reputation,
when I'm trying to come down;
I'm pushing for our home,
but all you want now honey,
is to get yourself a reputation;
all I want is to get it right again.
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