What happens when a hungry banjo player at the Portland farmer's market asks you for some words to make up a song and you tell him:
"Scottish ex-boyfriend who doesn't want to committ."
A few of the lyrics:
"I don't know why I'm wasting my time with a tear in my eye... it's not even worth it for such a noncomittal guy. What am I worried about all the chocolates and flowers that he never bought, it aint worth wasting no time about a noncomittal Scot..."
If you were here the banjo would poke out your eye. I'd take a fiddle boy and poke out the other side......"
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