He sits and stares, waiting for thunder After awhile, I started to wonder How he got so hollowed out I didn't even recognize him yesterday
The clock ticks like a small drop of water The clouds roll in the sun starts to fade away As the rain comes down he begins to pray
Now it's the dealer's turn to fold Cause the charade is getting old You can sit and wait for lightning to strike But the wind will takes its toll
He lifts his head, gets up in a daze Out of the fog and into a maze That's the way it starts everyday
So it seems the well's running dry All he does is look up to the sky and beg Laughing as they hand him a dead bouquet
That's all Let me know when this all sinks in Last call, last call The lights are on but you're not leavingTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
