West Ryder Silver Bullet

[spoken]

Then I went down into the basement

where my friend the maniac busy's himself with his electronic grafiti

Finally his language touches me

because he talks to the part of us

which insists on drawing profiles on prison walls.

In that moment poetry will be made by everyone

and there will be emu's in the zone...

Mist covers the ground

In the city

Engine rumbles quiet

As we drift by

I wish you could see it

Through my crooked eye

Oh your beauty

Plays me just like a guitar string (it's so true)

I want your touch

Oh how I want you far too much

She my baby

He's my baby

Ahhhhh [8x]

Days drift into one

It's so pretty

Travelling Wilbury's, Polly's photofits

And this stolen car

Is loaded with junk

It's so dirty

He'll be the death of me

But that's ok

I want your touch

Oh how I want you far too much

She my baby

He's my baby

Ahhhhh [8x]