This is the rhythm of the moral habit. Yeah. My head down here on the same day and too long. My ears catch glad to hear the same song. And I don't even know how we long enough. The bottom dial and the mud. The kind of ramble and fever in my blood. I thought it's ramble and fever long ago. When I felt her loss and whistle blow. If I've said I never gave a damn, I didn't sure if told you wrong. I've had a ramble and fever long. Ramble and fever. The kind of can be measured by the grace. Ramble and fever. There ain't no kind of cure for my disease. It'll take a lot to bet I don't so far. To let some pretty lady run my bike. Spare the early morning drinking coffee. Talk about where I'll be coming back. But I don't let a woman tie me down. I'll never get warm. Together I'm gonna die on the highway right away. A couple high line home. And I'll raise this ramble and fever in my soul. Ramble and fever. The kind that can be measured by the grace. Ramble and fever. The kind of can be measured by the grace. Ramble and fever. The kind of can be measured by the grace. Ramble and fever. The kind of can be measured by the grace. Ramble and fever.