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W​.​C. Fields

from Ditchlore by Heather French Henry

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lyrics

I prefer the misery of W.C. Fields
Open up my suitcase, honey I'm real
Never have I found love so grateful and true
I woke up no thinking like a star

So, far away, don't lead me to her
Rows and Rows of maze, don't lead me to her
There are no chains
but what will happen when we all go strange?

Dreadnought on the bounty, spotlight of the bay
Stay with me or I'm leaving like a star

So, far away, don't lead me to her
The ground was black with blood, don't lead me to her
There are no chains
No levee I can't break

Something outside, not worth keeping
someone I love to leave me the fuck alone
Every new day, every hour
never go astray or fall apart

So, far away, don't lead me to her

credits

from Ditchlore, released August 29, 2012

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Heather French Henry Bloomington, Indiana

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