And i'm lost in the window, and i hide in the stairway And i hang in the curtain, and i sleep in your hat... And no one brings anything small into a bar around here They all started out with bad directions And the girl behind the counter has a tattooed tear "one for every year he's away", she said Such a crumbling beauty, ah There's nothing wrong with her that a hundred dollars won't fix She has that razor sadness that only gets worse With the clang and the thunder of the southern pacific going by And the clock ticks out like a dripping faucet 'Til you're full of rag water and bitters and blue ruin And you spill out over the side to anyone who will listen... And i've seen it all, i've seen it all Through the yellow windows of the evening train...
No comments:
Post a Comment