Anaconda Swing

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KEES

KEES (1430 AM) is a terrestrial American radio station, relayed by an FM translator. It is part of the Guadalupe Radio Network, with some programming from EWTN Radio on the schedule. Licensed to Gladewater, Texas, the station serves the Longview-Marshall area. KEES is currently owned by La Promesa Foundation and features Catholic programming and teachings. more »

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He was waiting on the corner for the Cadillac car 
Silver earrings on the dashboard with aluminium scars
Only fire in his throat when sees her hand
With a poison cloud of smoke and a bikini tan  

Got the husher on the clock in case the whole thing goes loud
Not a shutter in the building no familiar crowd
Only standing in the night with his breath on check 
She was listening with a knife hidden under her chest

And she goes dining after sun with her friends in the park
Golden tattoo on her leg of a killer white shark
She's sees a figure floating gives it the stare
What an anaconda swing for a quarry to wear
Oh

He was thinking of the promises made to the prayer
His finger on the blade of material air 
All the creeping through the alleys with envious eye
There were people watching TV in the room beside 

He thinks he sees her crawling out of his space
His guts amongst the wall with a smirk on his face
Tailed for days above the radar eating food out a can
Keeps a silver plated razor at the base of her bookstand and 

She goes to class with her head in her throat
Leaving sketches on the walls of the words that he wrote
His name in ink on the sole of her shoes
Not another mis-conductor of the plum purple bruise
Her soft shell skin sitting pale in the night
See her beaming through the curtains with a falsetto light
He took a turn down a comfortable road
Silver demons in the barrel of gun that he holds

Like a dog calling running in the dead of night 
Every call every wanting to be on her side 
Broke the mirror where he with his found her on the floor 
Wiped the blood boiling of his hand-led it at the door
Like a dog calling, running in the dead of night 
Every call, every wanting to be on her side 
Broke the mirror where he with his found her on the floor 
Wiped the blood boiling of his hand-led it at the door

She goes to class with her head in her throat
Leaving sketches on the walls of the words that he wrote
His name in ink on the sole of her shoes
Not another mis-conductor of the plum purple bruise
Her soft shell skin sitting pale in the night
See her beaming through the curtains with a falsetto light
He took a turn down a comfortable road
Silver demons in the barrel of gun that he holds

 Become A Better Singer In Only 30 Days, With Easy Video Lessons!