Fallen angel with Texas plates
Leaned against me in her denim and lace
Foot on the pedal while the red dust settles on a set, her hair in my face
I'm a half written song in hanks Cadillac
I stole a few demons from that man in black
I carry my dreams in a brown paper sack
I'll give you my heart just don't give it back in pieces
A touch of makers on your lips
I love the taste of every kiss
Your touch catches like red top matches baby dragging across my skin
Take it easy baby hold on to me

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