Fruited Plain

Fruited Plain

case is empty case ,is full
making a case of the time we waste
sayin who ain’t chaste and who had
taste in school- when we was cool
pleated shirts, pleated slacks, pleadin’
please don’t leave you can never leave
you must believe you’ll lose steam on
the tracks and you’ll be headin’ back

makin’ love makin’ pain
raising hell raising cain
coming down keeping sane making
home in the land of the fruited plain

kicking ass, taking name
taking time in hopes to find
a reason why I just don’t feel ashamed
but it was all a game
checking in, checking out
checking first on who feels worse
about this curse
that’s reversed us inside-out
guess you should check it out

Chorus

even if we chose
I couldn’t get rid of you
lost the number on that form
now didn’t you
thought no one would notice
if I’d hidden you

feeling guilty, feeling bad
feeling unappealing’ bout the wheeling
and the dealing love like mad
but it was all I had
staying in, staying put
staying and praying
and weighing how far away
it’d be on foot if you weren’t put

Chorus

Mike Clem © 1993 J. Fish Music/ASCAP

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