My Evangeline, sweet Evangeline, she ain’t anyone’s, no sir, not even mine. She’s got flowers in her hair, blissfully unaware of the gazes of the strangers she’s unknowingly entranced. She’s listening to the stereo and oh, it’s like she doesn’t know how beautiful she looks in that awful little dress – and can’t you see she’s got the devil in her skin? Nineteen years old and skin and bones, she’s radiant, my Evangeline. Sweet Evangeline, she ain’t anyone’s, no sir, not even mine. The doorman didn’t care, they’d always let her in without a thought to check her age – they can’t see past her waist – but who would give a fuck? Nobody in their right mind would refuse her in those high heeled shoes. Honey, you could give a man the blues! Evangeline, sweet Evangeline, she ain’t anyone’s, no sir, not even mine.
credits
from The White White Lights EP,
released February 27, 2010
(c)(p) The White White Lights. Under direct license to Indierect Records, Austin, TX. All rights reserved
It's not often you see a debut EP so beloved that fans still get lit when they hear a song from it in concert. That's how good this is. weirdschlongbox
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