| It really does in your head
|
| To see the wino’s stew their liver
|
| Choking decoking their lungs
|
| That cry out sadly for some cleaner air
|
| Kissing their common law wives
|
| They’re cheek to cheek, bristle to bristle
|
| No wonder he hits the jug
|
| She’s got more facial hair than he has
|
| And do I see myself here
|
| Beside a hatful of beer in time
|
| With lady luck by my side
|
| A rhythm queen on the slide
|
| Together on a bench we’ll sing in harmony
|
| She just can’t work out her feet
|
| Not sure if there are two or four now
|
| Her blue faced love dances around
|
| With all the demons that he knows by name
|
| And don’t the rain cool him down
|
| As he lies singing to the pavement
|
| That pissed Caruso is in concert
|
| For all if we don’t trip on his head
|
| And do I see myself here
|
| Beside a hatful of beer in time
|
| With lady luck by my side
|
| A rhythm queen on the slide
|
| Together on a bench we’ll sing in harmony
|
| And do I see myself here
|
| Beside a hatful of beer in time
|
| With lady luck by my side
|
| A rhythm queen on the slide
|
| Together on a bench we’ll sing in harmony
|
| It really does in your head
|
| To see the wino’s stew their liver
|
| Choking decoking their lungs
|
| That cry out sadly for some cleaner air
|
| Kissing their common law wives
|
| They’re cheek to cheek, bristle to bristle
|
| No wonder he hits the jug
|
| She’s got more facial hair than he has |