Faulkner Street

The record player's scratchin' out an old and dusty tune On the front porch, on a Sunday, on an Arky afternoon We were lyin' 'round like gypsies, thinkin' 'bout goin' to town And Jimmy's drinkin' whiskey straight and lyin' in the shade Jamie's dancin' round the kitchen with a glass of lemonade Lookin' like an angel who's never gonna touch the ground.