Lyrics Nail - James Reyne

Nail

And so we wend our way to Big Smoke
Cat on a hot, tin Tennessee
In my town shoes and your golden slippers
And Hart Crane’s guarantee
All these shuttered, little coastal towns
Full of stutterers and lispers
And dark sunglasses, wide-brimmed hats
And whispers, whispers
And I looked to the sky
And it looked like rain
These Towers of Babel Babble
Are gonna come down again
On this American talk show
With these American talk show hosts (x2)
For want of a nail the shoe was gone
For want of a shoe the horse can’t run
For want of a horse the rider’s no more
For want of a rider we lost the saddle
We lost the battle and then we lost the war
And I was never the man
That I used to be
Just the boy most likely
You ever did see
On this American talk show
With these American talk show hosts (x2)