Lyrics:
Girl with hair of flaming red
Seeking perfect lover
For to lie down on her feather bed
Soul secrets to uncover
Must be gentile, must be strong
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
of questions and if you have time I'd like to read you a little poem
Of course
Oh, awesome
Um, so I just ate, you know, like a large bag of Cheetos
I've gotta
But it seems you wanna flirt with me instead
Or the body language I have read
Or the compliments you have said
Radiating like a meteor shower
Your
a bird is probably
Tighter than a virgin god emcee
Mightier than a merchant squad marine
Engage in battle logically
Flaming arrows tossing heat
Blaze
sila makukulong
Tonight the flaming desire has started
You can't hold me back eyes dilated
Time to let go and put on a show
I break away 'cause I
I'll
of the shining Silver City
I kissed my love goodbye, said "Honey don't you cry"
For I'm going to the Silver City
If you could read my mind, you'd know that
Friday check cash bank
Invest debts read think
Stuck in my ways stuck in my ways
Til' I see a mil
Til' I see I what's real
Lot of y'all I don't feel
Give me a sign
What's on your mind?
Two four
Give me a sign
I can't even read you can't see what's on your mind
Don't know if I should stay or if you
enough to get by
Don't need all the answers
I don't read no manual
Probably why I panic
I just don't understand it
I swerve when I'm stranded
Pretend I'm
love is more dependable
We CPUs wit' preinstalled emotions 'n genitals
I'm jus' bein' technical Read yo manual
Fear can push cha back against da wall
you just best believe it's bed time
And I'm a poet everything I said, I read, rhyme
And I'm gone show it, I'm just making up for dead time
Aye, I
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
on
This automatic not manual, but I operate without a manual
And I'm beasting going animal, Muppet Baby like Animal
Just a happy day with no Fonzie,
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
His eyes are flaming bloodshot red
With teeth of steel and spikes in his head
He flies in the sky and lives in the night
Smelling out another victim
inbound and rapidly approaching
None of us are chosen
Field manual 2-0 dash 4-6
Your life's getting away
You better run for it
Population reduction, mass
Contemplating the whole "chosen people" thingy when a flaming stealth banana split the sky like one would hope but never really expect to see in a place like this
I was born on a farm out in Ioway
A flaming youth who was bound that he'd fly away
I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
Can't read notes,
brightly
There’ll be a day though that somebody
Hold me closer when the night is cold
Read me poems heal my aching bones
Search for fuel to keep my flaming
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