Clementine

Baby I feel good, do you feel bad
Now that you’re mine?
Baby I feel good, do you feel bad
Clementine?
It’s the season of the witch and the drinking of wine
The seizing of the bitch, bionic in crime
Shed a tear for our darling, Clementine
Thrown in the ocean, drowning in the brine
Deep in the rainy streets
The rainy streets of your mind
If you move faster, can you look back there
And see her outline?
Trapped in a tower on the top of the hill
Or hear the crushing of her bones in the miller’s mill
Or trapped in a bottle of tiny blue pills
Escaping from a hunter, looking for a kill?