Dusted
As the night stars fall,
I’ll be that last shot of whiskey…
so whistle loud 
and make it pretty.
Preacher took my love
but not my money,
I’ll get it back…
I promise you honey.

As the night stars fall,
I’ll be that last shot of whiskey…
so whistle loud
and make it pretty.
Preacher took my love
but not my money,
I’ll get it back…
I promise you honey.

ink and gouache on paper