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Zeal's Treasure Thread


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"Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together"

"I've got some real estate here in my bag"

So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies

And we walked off to look for America

 

"Kathy" I said as we boarded a Greyhound in Pittsburgh

"Michigan seems like a dream to me now"

It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw

I've gone to look for America

 

Laughing on the bus, Playing games with the faces

She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy

I said "Be careful, his bowtie is really a camera"

 

"Toss me a cigarette, I think there's one in my raincoat"

"We smoked the last one an hour ago"

So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine

And the moon rose over an open field

 

"Kathy, I'm lost" I said, though I knew she was sleeping

I'm empty and aching and I don't know why

Counting the cars on the New Jersey turnpike

They've all gone to look for America

All gone to look for America, All gone to look for America

 

 

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I awoke today and found the frost perched on the town

It hovered in a frozen sky, then it gobbled summer down

When the sun turns traitor cold

and shivering trees are standing in a naked row

I get the urge for going but I never seem to go

 

I get the urge for going

When the meadow grass is turning brown

Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in

 

I had me a man in summertime

He had summer-colored skin

And not another girl in town

My darling's heart could win

But when the leaves fell trembling down

Bully winds did rub their faces in the snow

He got the urge for going And I had to let him go

 

He got the urge for going

When the meadow grass was turning brown

Summertime was falling down and winter was closing in

 

The warriors of winter they gave a cold triumphant shout

And all that stays is dying and all that lives is getting out

See the geese in chevron flight flapping and racing on before the snow

They've got the urge for going, they've got the wings to go

 

They get the urge for going

When the meadow grass is turning brown

Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in

 

I'll ply the fire with kindling and pull the blankets to my chin

and I'll the vagrant winter out and bolt my wandering in

I'd like to call back summertime and have her stay jut another month or so

She's got the urge for going and I guess she'll have to go

 

And she get the urge for going when meadow grass is turning brown

All her empires are falling down

winter's closing in

 

 

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I reckon if I hadn't met Mrs Zeal, I'd have probably married a young American folk singer/songwriter.

 

About 23 years old, long wavy hair, probably blonde, pretty little thing in a flowery dress. nice tits. Would sit and play guitar with her all night by candlelight until dawn. Then go to bed and make love together for the first time.

 

 

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