Sam Baker Psychic
So the psychic on the lower east side The pakistani woman with the pretty green eyes She said its time to choose Too late to hide You've got to choose Choose between lies Or you can choose truth But you've got to decide which feels better When it's next to you Right by your side Gotta choose truth Or you gotta choose lies It's been paid for in spades And drinks at the bar Paid for in feathers Feathers and tar Look out the window broken glass in the yard You think that's what happens when you let down your guard But things just happen things fall apart And then all of the king's men have to depart When things get dicey There's an open heart All the king's men have to depart It's not your husband's move or his hired hand He uses whips on the horses He's that kind of man You pretend he whispers So you don't take a stand But there are scars on the flanks They look like fans The horses are scared Their eyes roll white They ever get loose They get loose some night They ever get loose They'll be gone by light The horses are scared Their eyes roll white The Pakistani women on the lower east side The psychic with the pretty green eyes Said it's time to choose It's too late to hide
