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• Artiste: Curt Kirkwood
• Titre: Box Of Limes
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This box of limes is burning cold Come all these moonbeams, burning down my door These dirty rhymes are on a roll That's not what it seems Crawling across your floor Fading stars in the purple orange night Growing dreams of roses blue and white This toothpick, Baby, is burning wax Pigs on a postcard are playing jacks They play for nothing, no looking back That's not what it seems Crawling through the cracks Fading stars in the purple orange night Growing dreams of roses blue and white This box of limes is burning cold Come all these moonbeams, further to be sold These dirty rhymes are chewing glass That's not what it seems Coming over the pass Fading stars in the purple orange night Growing dreams of roses blue and white Fading stars in the purple orange night Growing dreams of roses blue and white This box of limes is burning cold This box of limes This box of limes is burning cold These dirty rhymes are chewing glass That's not what it seems Coming over the pass