Louisa And Her Blue Guitar by Jewel Kilcher A naked thigh has much to talk about If it's just approached right. Just like girls who talk too much In crowded barrooms like last night. Just like our Louisa, ain't that right? Conversations overheard, Sacred silver dollars become petty change. Suddenly red lipstick finds itself On the wrong side of her age. Just like our Louisa, ain't that strange? And washed nylons bleed dirty tears >From stranger's window panes. The red light cannot change the mood Of the blue guitar that's played. Blue guitar. The sound of painted nails are playing. Hi-ho silver, add another glass. Good intentions can beat up sick attention And Louisa finishes last. "Oh goody, ain't life a blast." Hollow glance. May I have this dance? Her face is moonworn and thin 'Cause she's been wishing on too many stars again. Washed nylons bleed dirty tears >From stranger's window panes. The red light cannot change the mood Of the blue guitar that's played. Blue guitar. Blue guitar. Get in the car.
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