I've held your hand and sunk your ships And I can read our future in the whiskey on your lips Watch this ice a-melting; cool glass magnify my palms And from the church on Sunday evening comes the sifted sound of psalms
Things they go and then come around to stops Now my baby's just a breeze through the treetops
Glass in my hand, my back to the door My one consolation is I ain't your man anymore
The Drop
Oh, I worry just about the drop Oh, I worry just about the drop 'Cause it's not the fall that kills you, But, the sudden stop
Machiavelli on the door The shogun dropped his chopsticks in the bowl Oh, you might be a pastor, but you never pay the toll
I'm flippin' from left to right Oh, I'm flippin' like a moth tonight I could never ask your baby, I'll wish for you tonight I'll wish for you
I worry just about the drop I worry about the drop 'Cause it's not the fall that kills you, It's that sudden stop That sudden stop, now
Is she alligator Yeah, she's a crocodile She got that ancient ? That's just hanging out of her smile
When she called you at the keyhole, brother She knew it all the while Oh, I worry just about the drop Oh, I worry (I'm so worried, mama) about the drop 'Cause it's not the fall that kills you, But that sudden stop Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
