Seven on the clock,
Seventh on the wall,

The day was a rhythm
for Evan and Jane.

Blue jean on both,
Like a four legged stream.

Set out them both,
to suburban south.

With Empty pockets,
Set out those lovers

And all they had
two minds so blank.

Yet saved their dream,
Like an eagle's glare.

And set out them both,
To suburban south.

Mast high and misty,
the suburban south

Turned hostile 
to Evan and Jane.

In the nailing cold,
The lovers froze.

And the four legged stream,
couldn't  keep them warm.

They walked and walked
Those crazy lovers,

Their feet turned numb,
Like the rueful slug.

And then it happened
It happened to Jane,

Falling down a hill,
so was Evan to save his Jane.

And Thud ! Jane's head,
It hit the dead man' chest.

Blood poured down
from her delicate head,

The four legged stream
Was staining red.

Cried in vain
Her dearly Evan,

But their every cry
was left unheard.

But then it came
It came to jane,

And the one that came
was a faded smile.

And her lungs were
breathing in and out.

There they saw
in the dead man's chest,

The antique treasure
from centuries behind.

Kissed his Jane
Her dearly Evan,

Their blue jean pockets
were filled this time.

With the antique treasure
in the dead man's chest.

Set out them again
Both Evan and Jane,

In their blue jean
Those crazy lovers,

For one last try,
to cease suburbs.


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