Lirieke: Black Crowes. Amorica. Song Of The Flesh.

Curse the wicked whisper here in this ear
Make my honey
Grind that salt before the rains come this year
To make it all muddy

So now you have called
And now you want to wring my neck
Oh baby you talk so tight
Tell me now, who's all wet?

I could kiss
Your promiscuous mind

My flesh is yours and there is nothing to fear
Make us all alone
Wind your watch and bless all my prayer
Make ready to get home

Oh now you get so hard
Now you wring my neck
And now you wanna talk so tight
Tell me, who's all wet?

I could kiss
Your promiscuous mind
I could kiss
Your promiscuous mind, yes I could

I have four lone stars that you have given me
Yeah and why don't you give it baby?
Well, the feeling you're giving baby
Tell me, what you give away
You give it, you give it, give it