Kerosene

Nashville trucker and the clowns of the summer

Dust on the soles of their feet

The roar of the crowd in the sleepiest town

That the circus has ever seen

My baby she feels like the morning

And she’s hooked me like heartache like tarn

And she never grows tired of the water

She never grows tired of the wine

She’s tough like turpentine

Mad carnie suns mixed with long barrel guns

Hide their coat tails in the hay

Cheap metal markets, top bottles and rockets

And ponies painted grey

My baby is soft like molasses

Like cigarettes corners and thieves

When she’s hungry she looks for the garden

When she’s scared she looks for me

She’s hard like kerosene

My baby she’s calm like the lightening

And her fingers are soft to the touch

Just a matchbox quilt and a camera

My baby don’t ask for much, no my baby don’t ask for much

My baby she shakes when it thunders

And she hides it but not very well

She knows all my carious secrets

My baby will never tell, my baby will never tell

And she dances like fresh Spanish roses

And she loves me like candy, like rain

My baby she don’t have to tell me

My baby don’t need to explain, my baby don’t need to explain

She calls me at midnight on Sundays

When the lights run the big top goes down

I’ve been known to shoot out the sunrise

When my baby ain’t around, when my baby aint around