Let's put a new coat of paint on this lonesome ol' town.
Set 'em up we'll be knockin 'em down.
You wear adress baby,I'll wear a tie.
We'll laugh at that ol' bloodshot moon
In that burgundy sky(TOM WAITS).
The flattery breath sound. But, the sound seems to be happy. The eye which seems to be gentle . The eye which received love and which seems to be satisfactory. I think that "not freedom" is "freedom".
