well my buckle makes impressions on the inside of her thigh there are little feathered indians where we tussled through the night if i d known she was religious then i wouldn t have came stoned to the house of such an angel too fucked up to get back home lookin over west virginia smoking spirits on the roof she asked ain t anybody told ya that them things are bad for you i said many folks have warned me there s been several people try but up til now there ain t been nothing that i couldn t leave behind hold me close my dear sing your whispering song softly in my ear and i will sing along honey tell me how your love runs true and how i can always count on you to be there when the bullets fly i d run across the river just to hold you tonight well my heart is sweating bullets from the circles it has raced like a little feathered indian callin out the clouds for rain i d go runnin through the thicket i d go careless through the thorns just to hold her for a minute though it d leave me wanting more hold me close my dear sing your whispering song softly in my ear and i will sing along honey tell me how your love runs true and how i can always count on you to be there when the bullets fly i d run across the river just to hold you tonight1