| How now my sweet
|
| Do you stand in the puddles
|
| of this public disease?
|
| I see you glide through these parties
|
| working on strangers
|
| with the greatest of ease.
|
| And you wake in the morning
|
| with a head full of cotton
|
| and the telephone rings
|
| It’s your conscience that’s calling
|
| It knows you’ve been stalling
|
| 'Cause reality -- stings
|
| Tell me what you need
|
| always playing plastic baby -- tell me
|
| Where’s it gonna lead?
|
| Take a look at what you have
|
| Tell me why you’re always
|
| Crying -- you ain’t got it that bad.
|
| Your body’s so tired
|
| But your head is still wired
|
| from the buzz of the bar room chatter
|
| You’ve been working so hard and
|
| losing sight of the things,
|
| that really do matter.
|
| Yes, there once was a time when
|
| we were both blind
|
| to the rules of taking and giving
|
| Tell me how many times
|
| must you get burned
|
| Before you think about
|
| the cost of living?
|
| Anytime, anytime you want
|
| You can come to me
|
| You will find,
|
| There is one thing I can give to you,
|
| that is love
|
| Tell me, how now my sweet
|
| Do you wade through the shallows
|
| while you suffer and bleed?
|
| Yeah, well the sharks are all comin'
|
| And still you keep runnin' out to sea.
|
| Anytime, anytime you want
|
| You can come to me
|
| You will find,
|
| There is one thing I can give to you,
|
| that is love |