I met St. Louis on a plane He was sitting there quiet I was doing much the same ‘Till he touched my arm just once And I started to cry
He said did you know the arch moves I said no take me there, I need to be moved It’s been a long long while since my face touched the sky
CHORUS: The same glasses that fill me Eventually fall And I take the pieces And I plant them all And I call it my garden I call it my daughter I call it life And my life’s pretty good
I met St. Louis on a plane He ordered me a whiskey And I told him ‘bout the shame I felt Every last time I broke a heart I said did you know I got a man of many moons He said no but I get it, and I’d take me with you Every time the clock strikes twelve And you’re feeling along
The same glasses that fill me Eventually fall And I take the pieces And I plant them all And I call it my garden I call it my daughter I call it my savior I call it my prayer I call it what matters I call it my grace I call it life And my life’s pretty goodTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
