The French Kicks

The Pines

The French Kicks


The night she got the swastika tattoo,
Her lips were cherry red, her eyes were sapphire blue.
The night we let the bombs off in the forest,
She got so horny, we made love in the pines.

The wind blows softer down in Southern Arkansas,
The match hits the paraffin, the wood burns to the floor.
We know what's wrong or right,
We know what love is for, it's for our kind.

We've got friends down south, and friends up in the mountains,
She paints her toenails red because that's the way I like them.
We know the FBI and CIA are frightened,
But they won't keep our love underground.

I don't do drink, I take no drugs,
But christ she's hit the bottle, like there's no tomorrow.
I used to think that she truly believed,
But now sometimes I wonder if her faith is just a smokescreen.

The wind blows softer down in Southern Arkansas,
The match hits the paraffin, the wood burns to the floor.
We know what's wrong and right,
We know what love is for, it's for our kind.

We've got friends down south, and friends up in the mountains,
She paints her toenails red because that's the way I like them.
We know the FBI and CIA are frightened,
But they won't keep our love underground.

And does my love keeping hoping of,
The better world I've been dreaming of.

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