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Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Eric D Johnson
Eric D Johnson
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Fruit Bats
Fruit Bats
Producer
Thom Monahan
Thom Monahan
Producer

Lyrics

In his cold little town there's no singing allowed No one smiles much and no one makes out and no one smokes down He had a click in his knee and a sore in his mouth Had a couple of girls but nothing so great to keep him around So from up on the tundra he wandered down Like a stray cat running from the snow Took his mouldering boots off and breathed the air Tried to live on the beach and was seared by the sun Back on the farm his folks were up in arms crying, "our baby's a bum!" But them Florida Girls kept him at ease Ginger and rose and jasmine and all the other smells on the breeze Up from the marshes she came to him Like a flip flop floatin' on a wave Like a hummingbird flying across the sea If you lose a wingbeat when you're over that sea You'll be swallowed by the drink, you'll sink and you'll sink You'll sink, you'll see But up in her room smells like sweet cinnamon Cedar and sage and incense and smoke but few men had been He's lost and he's gone Gotta heart like an orange
Writer(s): Eric Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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