Our teeth ain't shiny like diamonds or gold
We're as thin as piss on a hot rock
In the sun
I think we'd be happier in Arizona
I speak a little Spanish and like the weather there
In the sun
When Crow shot Vida in the entryway
She stumbled out without a whimper
The pouring blood went like water all down her face
She plugged up the wound with her finger
I dreamed I was a catfish on the Gasconade
You wrote your name on the elastic behind the brim
In the sun
Ain't gonna beg for you to stay
Or speak it softly to you
Go on and plan our bloody holiday in the sun