The Storm

I like belts, that wrap around your waist

I like pretty girls who don't give a damn that their shoes unlaced

An itch in the ear can only mean one thing

That someone's singing about you and what you said last spring

Even the man from Galilee climbed that tree

Just to hear you sing

My banjo makes a noise

But all my songs are nothing to your voice

For even Solomon in all his glory

Was outshined by a lily, least that's what I've been told

And the queen of the south and the girl from Spain