Well my buckle makes impressions On the inside of her thigh There are little feathered Indians Where we tussled through night If I'd known she was religious Then I wouldn't have came stoned To house such an angel Too fucked up to get back home Lookin' over West Virginia Smoking Spirits on roof She asked ain't anybody told ya That them things bad for you said "Many folks warned me There's been several people try But 'til now there nothing couldn't leave behind" Hold close dear Sing your whispering song Softly in ear And will sing along Honey tell how love runs true can always count be when bullets fly run across river just hold tonight heart is sweating From circles it has raced Like a Indian Callin' out clouds rain go runnin' thicket careless thorns Just minute Though it'd wanting more