Feathered Indians

Well, my buckle makes impressions on the inside of her thigh

There are little feathered Indians where we tussled through the night

If I'd known she was religious, then I wouldn't have came stoned

To the house of such an angel, too fucked up to get back home

Looking over West Virginia, smoking Spirits on the roof

She asked, "Ain't anybody told ya that them things are bad for you?"

I said, many folks have warned me, there's been several people try

But up till now, there ain't been nothing that I couldn't leave behind

Hold me close, my dear

Sing your whispering song

Softly in my ear

And I will sing along

Honey, tell me how your love runs true

And how I can always count on you

To be there when the bullets fly

I'd run across the river just to hold you tonight

Well, my heart is sweating bullets from the circles it has raced

Like a little feathered Indian calling out the clouds for rain

I go running through the thicket, I go careless through the thorns

Just to hold her for a minute, though it leaves me wanting more

Hold me close, my dear

Sing your whispering song

Softly in my ear

And I will sing along

Honey, tell me how your love runs true

And how I can always count on you

To be there when the bullets fly

I'd run across the river just to hold you tonight