Stormy High

Whoaaah The witch is on your trail, my lord Stormy stormy high You've been dying to be set free Oh curse those honeyed hands Whoaaah It wasn't the doctors that finished the pills He wants the ones that don't crack But they're dangerous like barbed wire ties Oh stormy stormy minds Well, oh, it wasn't us, though, that torched to flames The fried daughters of oh, no oh Well you've been up since the last motel You've been up for so long Oh Stormy stormy high