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Boltcutter Again
por
Ike Reilly
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Allah, Allah, Christ, don't you understand? I'm nervous waiting for my baby's plane to land Returning with her family from the Holy Land Allah, Allah, Christ, don't you understand? I walked, I wracked my brain, I ran I can't find my people, got this travel ban I didn't see 'em pass through the customs gate I checked the screen and the plane ain't late The flowers that I bought are beginning to wilt And the Frango mints are turned to chocolate milk I walked, I wracked my brain, I ran They got her handcuffed to a rail down in carousel ten Well, I knew I'd need help to break her free So I gave a shout-out to my local DJ I made a song request, confessed my sins To the only friend I got knows the shape I'm in Hey, mister DJ, help me break her chains Get your bolt cutters and meet me down in baggage claim Well, we would need a diversion before we made a break I threw myself on the ground, and I began to shake The DJ cut my baby and her mama's chains And said, "Welcome, pretty ladies, to the U.S.A." The car was at the curb, and I threw him the keys We went to Gene & Georgetti's with the refugees
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