15

Twenty-five the season of dope

Three sheets to the wind like a clothes line rope

He's a spider on the web

She was a tiny woman; heap of sins

Her developing body was just the beginning

She said "Is anybody out there?"

She was bruised like a cherry

Ripe as a peach

How could he have known

That she was only 15?

And she came to him like a tick on the news

A little blue-eyed soul for his black and blues

It's a new high moon

For the likes of me

Our skin is like grass

Let's smoke it real fast

Is anybody out there?

He was deep like a graveyard, wired like T.V.

And how could he have known

That she'd be down for almost anything

But she was only, only, only 15

My, oh my, you pretty thing

It's about that time

For us to meet

Does your daddy have a shotgun?

He was deep like a graveyard

She was ripe as a peach

And how could he have known

That she was only 15

She was only, only, only 15

She was only, only, only fifteen