A little Fairy tale.  
  Copyright M.Ziza 2001


Our lives are just a plain song,	
Sometimes it's over B'fore the end
And when the meledy gets twisted,	
That's when I begin to bend.

So roll us upin a blanket,	
Of big words and simily
For my tide is just a-turnin',		
Like a scraping from your knee.

Skin me in the mornin',
Spit buckets full of sand
Leave a 20 on the table,
and a hat upon the stand

There's a spider on my dresser,	
He's got a pistol in each hand.
If you come at him from behind he'll say,		
Gotch ya covered, make a stand.

(rpt 3rd; then outro.)