a fifth on decoration day for the doctor that fixed my arm. The federales back from Tuscon, each one got an arm gone. Limehouse Pratt got dim inside, can't see the painted ladies runaround at night. A wood-paneled room, my cigarette fumes waltz and dissolve just for you. There's gonna be a truce(x3) but first you got to set your horses loose. A jaguar simmering in a cage, give him a chance, can you tell the answer from the ants. History's got it's walking papers can't get enough of the make-up that makes it look so tough. Well it ssssseems just like a freeze out (x3). an undisclosed, deeply wooded lose your way route.