Black boots
Right angles
Well that's all she remembers
Standing in her sundress
Naked underneath
Tangled up in his fist
In twisted fantasies
Black boots right angles
Well that's all i remember
And a little red dress
Up above the tavern
Hold me up over his head
Don't you tell what he did
Don't you tell
They said call him uncle well
Now he's dead
Underneath the table
With a bullet in his heart
On a sunday morning