You better find your way out You better learn how to run You better walk away And leave the angles for the shills Well, I've been thinking for days About the means and the ways That I could hate all I touch I know you're my lady But I could trickle, I could flood A voice coach taught me to sing He couldn't teach me to love All the above Easy-talking, border-blocking Transport is arranged ♪ Praise the grammar police Set me up with your niece Walk to Baltimore And keep the language off the street Well, I'm of several minds I am the worst of my kind I wanna cremate the crutch I know you're my lady But phone calls could corrupt the morning I heed the surgeon's warning, pillars of eights ♪ I swung my fiery sword I vent my spleen at the lord He is abstract and bored Too much milk and honey Well, I'll waltz through the wilderness With nothing but a compass and a canteen Setting the scenes Easy-walking, border-blocking Transport is arranged