Kline Family Ink

At the post of Stephen Foster at the hotel paradise This is what I told him as I gazed into his eyes Rooms were made for carpets, towers made for spires Ships were made for cannonade to fire off from inside them One from life, one from our days Camp Town ladies never sang, oh little dude No, no, no At the post of Stephen Foster at the hotel paradise This is what I told him as I gazed into his eyes Ships were made for stinking, whiskey made for drinking If were made of salafane, we'd all get stinking much faster One from life, one from our days Camp Town ladies never sang, oh little dude No, no, no One from life, one from our days Camp Town ladies never sang, oh little dude