Hardwood Pews - Horse Feathers

Stalling, stalling, the hardwood of pews is calling

We want this news

Lovely ladies make pretty babies, it’s true

That woman’s not you

Take your body and clothes to places he won’t go

Your life as you know is hopeless, it’ll happen too slow

Oh, she’s tricked, she was trapped

Her body was lacking white and red

Those hues lost in bed

Oh, they would speak language exacting

Oh, they would lay, parts practicing

And through it all he won’t call

Lovely ladies take your beauty to your grave