Nonfiction - Black Crowes

I don't know my telephone numberBut you kiss good and I'd like toSee you tomorrowAnd I don't beg, I pay, I don't barterAnd if we had a child I'd like a son,Not a daughter'Cause she'd be just like youYou know that would not doI'm no builder, I'm no gardenerI sing some songs, have a friendWho's a photographerThere ain't no other languageI know how to speakSome like their water shallowAnd I like mine deepTied to the bottomWith a noose around my feetChorus:The clouds conspireAbove my headI overheard themSay I wish he was deadToday the sunsetBurned my eyesAnd in the next room I hear someone cryI like to dress up like the juryTo eat like a king, to poke fun at clergyTo talk like dirtTo love yo like tarBut never fall in too fastWith my north starWhile you pull your hair outI buy the drinks at the barChorus

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