I gotta woman she's wild as Rome
She likes being naked and gazed upon
She crosses a bridge she sets it on fire
she lands like a bird on a telephone wire
I'm gonna hollar I'm gonna scream
I'm gonna get me some mescaline
them I'm gonna rhyme that with gasoline
A drunken poets dream
Their's some money on the table and a pistols on the floor
A few paperback books by Louis Lamour
Whiskey bottles all scattered like last nights clothes
with cigarettes, papers and oreo's
My harmonicas got a busted reed
My lips are chapped and about to bleed
She say's that's nothing when she was a kid
She danced with the dead at the pyramids
I'm gonna hollar I'm gonna scream
I'm gonna get me some mescaline
them I'm gonna rhyme that with gasoline
A drunken poets dream
I'll never pay back my student loan
Smelling like Coors and cheap cologne
She tells me not to worry about judgement day
She said "dying to get in heaven just ain't our way"
I'm gonna hollar I'm gonna scream
I'm gonna get me some mescaline
them I'm gonna rhyme that with gasoline
A drunken poets dream
I gotta woman she's wild as Rome
She likes being naked and gazed upon
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