I phoned you up from Dallas But your heart was still in marble And your head Was reckoning Your friends are dis-compos-mentis And like most in leather jackets are Coveting Reckoning Reckoning And you're sleeping with some hippie half-wit Who thinks he's Mr. Mark Smith Reckoning Beckoning Reckoning I'm left alone in Europe Consulting an atlas Wandering Wandering And it's evil that you spark off In disguise as basic truth Listening Listening Listening Reckoning Reckoning Beckoning Reckoning
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