40 Stripes

dye your eyes the color of july

40 stripes an no one bats an eye

empty room with nothing on the walls

a telephone that no one seems to call

heavy doses of what may be

catching on to your sorcery

changin' me

lazy lover layin' in the grass

hopin' that this loneliness will pass

thunder fills the old ones with alarm

fingers trace the thinness of the arm

read my lips and tell me what to do

all these songs and i don't have a clue

loving you just never really paid

gonna get back my old job at the arcade