Goin to a Hangin
My sweetheart is a yogi
The painter's still asleep
I'm stuck here in my scoggie
The smell is in trouble deep

The president's head is played
The garbage is pilin up
The schoolyard kids are playin
I'm on my second coke

Nick's goin with me
The neighbor’s bangin
Don’t make me a bug
Nick’s goin to a hangin
Oh, honey please, won’t you come

The dancin sweetheart's smokin
Mercury is higher
I’m scared to death but fallin
Now Jupiter is on fire

I wish I had a dollar
For every dream I’ve had
The cat took off her collar
Now I need to calm her down

Nick’s goin to me
Guitars are playin
You can hear them strum
We're goin to a hangin
Oh, honey please, won't you come

It's called a crime of passion
It's called a circus tribe
The media teeth are nashing
While wearin that anchor's smile

I sure can face the ocean
The desert burnt the toast
I wish I had some lotion
I feel like a piece of toast

Nick’s goin to leave
Bells are ringin
Goin to death and to jump
We’re goin to a hangin

Oh, honey please, won’t you come
Oh, honey please, won’t you come

Goin to a hangin
Available On: Desert Sessions vols. 5 & 6 (1999)

Poetry entry #107 by Teddy Quinn

Teddy Quinn - vocals
Tony Mason - guitar, bass
Dave Catching - fluffy guitar, leads
Schneebie (Schneeble) - drums, noises

Guitar Tab

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