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I Burnt Your Clothes (Howard Rowland S.)

I had no knife but myself, It was me I cut but you bled as well How could I help my dear sweet pretty one? When I could not put down the gun. And I don't know your name Sweet baby Jane. You'll find it unbelievable, I left you in the hospital, and you don't have a stitch to wear 'cos the doctors cut the clothes right off your back and guess what I don't care about who or what or when or where and Heaven knows; I burnt your clothes. That's it, there's no road left to run. I spilt myself 'til I had none. I grew thorns upon your path, They struck not at your feet but at your heart. Still don't know your name, Sweet baby Jane. You'll find it unbelievable, I left you in the hospital, and you don't have a stitch to wear 'cos the doctors cut the clothes right off your back and guess what I don't care about who or what or when or where and Heaven knows; I burnt your clothes. I howled outside your door, I was the wolf but I'll return no more. This life is black, and running through a heart that's cursed, I lost the best, but can I lose the worst? I'll soon know your name, Sweet baby Jane. You'll find it unbelievable, I left you in the hospital, and you don't have a stitch to wear 'cos the doctors cut the clothes right off your back and guess what I don't care about who or what or when or where and Heaven knows; I burnt your clothes. I burnt your clothes burnt your clothes I know your name Sweet baby Jane.