Last One - Fred Thomas

I’ve got a nervous heart

Afraid of it’s own sighs

But I know, I know it’s real

It just won’t materialise

These songs just say one thing

They say I can’t be dried

And all of that swam this thing

They found the other crying

I’ve admitted to staying off the sidewalk

When those clothes talk

Scattered as like dirty clothes all along

Those battling teeth keep a bristling relief

As the temperature goes up

As the summer explodes us

Gripped needle in a fever stalk

I’v got a anxious love

It shoots me all the tim

I know, I know it’s been

The last thing on you mind