There ain't no drinkin' on the river when the sun goes down Think I see the blue lights comin' through the woods It's the Sheriff and his posse, this
step out sweetly, nothing planned Along by the river we feed bread to the swans And then over the footbridge to the woods beyond We walk ourselves weary, you and
stay with my niggaz surrounding don't try to down or clown me Talking that trash off in the club, fuck nigga what? I swing for myself and beat yo lil' ass Crime Mob the click and we be the shit And
song too I never thought I could have it so good You were the song that my soul understood That time is a river that flows through the woods And it led
the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the world and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road run by To many-towered Camelot; And
The gypsy rover come over the hill, Bound throug the valley so shady; He whisteld and he sang, Till the the green woods rang, And he won the heart of
conquer time and space and fight the rivers and the seas I stand here filled with my emptiness now and look at city and land And I know why farms and
memories and my dreams Everything I rode would fly In the woods by the river, and through the fields of hay Stirring dust and making noise Across a homemade finish line now lost and
is the same disappointing retreat. And I need it like hell if I'd lie to myself to think I could live that life over again. Where the cuts were like guilt and
behind ya ready to blind ya You can diss me and you can hide but you know I'm gon find ya [Chorus] It's me and my shadow Creeping through your hood With
, mirrors and plates Nicks, dimes, fifties, and cakes Why can't I escape These lies, straws, mirrors and plates? In the land of jacks I got my acts over
still out there in the woods Monatuk, Ocanuk, runnin' through my dreams now With fire on their fingertips and indian screams With fire on their fingertips and
out there in the woods Molatar, okenah, running through my dreams now With fire on their fingertips and injun's screams Fire on their fingertips and
. Bottomless wales and boundless floods, and chasms and caves, and titan woods, with forms that no man can discover for the tears that drip all over,
In her pornoglossa, Christlike, whipped and weak Painted nails driven through the meek Yet in obituary, my dreams still weep Of dark blood and fucking
was old, and beautiful, and wise, and She taught the young boy everything he needed to know. All about the land, and the woods and the rivers, and what