| The carriage horses stamp and fume
|
| Until all color’s gone
|
| They leave the street in black and white
|
| And bring the evening coming on
|
| Lovers tug their way out of gloves
|
| Out of shoes, and gray chiffon
|
| The driver pulls his blanket high
|
| And pretends to look beyond
|
| Oh, pray for you, pray for me
|
| Sing it like a song
|
| Life is short but, by the grace of God
|
| This night is long
|
| Girls crowd into bathroom stalls
|
| The boys smoke in their cars
|
| The general, he’s in civilian clothes
|
| Standing at the bar
|
| He waves at the deaf flower lady
|
| «Come sit by me, sweetheart»
|
| He draws a napkin battle plan
|
| Says, «this is where we start»
|
| Oh pray for you, pray for me
|
| Sing it like a song
|
| Life is sort but, by the grace of God
|
| This night is long
|
| There are no more hummingbirds
|
| Like there used to be
|
| They’re fat and slow and careless now
|
| They’ve turned blue and mean
|
| And the parrots sound like monkeys
|
| Screaming from the trees
|
| As the decent people
|
| Fumble for their keys
|
| We used to spend the night in town
|
| Down by city hall
|
| And the water works of Irish Beach
|
| Just below the falls
|
| We’d walk down to the Park Hotel
|
| Past the Baptist Veteran’s Mall
|
| Back then, a man in uniform
|
| Might mean anything at all
|
| Oh, pray for you, pray for me
|
| Sing it like a song
|
| Life is short but, by the grace or cruel heart of God
|
| The night is long |