Pan-american Blues

The Silver Jews

  • 																					a fifth on decoration day for the doctor
    that fixed my arm. The federales back
    from Tuscon, each one got an arm gone.
    Limehouse Pratt got dim inside, can't see
    the painted ladies runaround at night.
    A wood-paneled room, my cigarette fumes
    waltz and dissolve just for you.
    There's gonna be a truce(x3) but
    first you got to set your horses loose.
    A jaguar simmering in a cage, give him
    a chance, can you tell the answer from the
    ants. History's got it's walking papers
    can't get enough of the make-up
    that makes it look so tough.
    Well it ssssseems just like a freeze out
    (x3). an undisclosed, deeply wooded
    loose your way route.

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