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040


On a seaward plane We start to think France is to blame And all the neatly folded Never nearly buried, stay Well on a seaward plane Oh she is to blame What if the soil caught flame It wasn't easy to speak again How all these piles of Piling up are destroying our (?) It's the second time I caught myself drinkin' The second time I found myself In the state of Maine again Now all you lovely, pretty things Mean nothing to me now Well you can run for Congress Or you can sign a treaty against me If you wish On a seaward plane Start to think Mars was to blame And all the neatly folded Never nearly buried, stay A little too long Well on a seaward plane Only she is to blame What if the soil caught flame It wasn't easy to sleep again How all these piles of Piling up are destroying our (?) What of our love? Push all the livid out

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