Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
Steve Wynn
If the river runs dry like it probably will
I'll drink from the well 'till I get my fill
If God likes a joke and I think that he may
We'll both be there laughing at the end of the play
What can I tell you?
The way that they sell you
Well, you can strike up the band
With the back of her hand, it's alright
What can I show you
They think that they know you
Well you can wrap up the show
With all that you know, it's alright
If they come looking for me you can tell them dead
I might be there watching or hiding instead