Lyrics:
St Marks

Oh, how sadly sound the songs, the queen must sing of dying A prisoner upon her throne of melancholy sighing If she could see her mirror now She would

(Jackson Browne) Oh how sadly sound the songs the queen must sing of dying A prisoner upon her throne of melancholy sighing If she could see her mirror

Translation: Jackson Browne. The Birds Of St. Marks.

apple, Going home back to my scene??? You can't say it's St. Marks fault, When he don't even own the block, You can't say it's St. Marks fault, When he

We got some poison in us Cyanide and nicotine More than you've ever seen More than I can believe Woe, woe, woe, woe Guns, guns they all got guns Now

Here?s some things about me you might wanna know I?m gonna tell you even if you don?t I come from the country, I still been to town And I like dogs but

Here?s some things about me you might wanna know. I?m gonna tell you even if you don?t. I come from the country, I still been to town. An' I like dogs

it my way You got me st-stutterin' How can I make you stay? I don't have the words to say When you shake it my way You got me st-stutterin' Stutterin

Go ahead, close ya eyes, who the next to step? Face down, hit, bleedin' on the steps a death Check yo self, you just been invaded by true soldiers December 31st