| She walked right in
|
| As time slowed down
|
| But not enough
|
| To keep me from ordering up
|
| Another round
|
| In a bottomless cup
|
| That I had found
|
| In the hopes of never waking up. |
| The
|
| Jukebox played
|
| An old country song
|
| About steel guitars
|
| And how he’ll try his level best
|
| To get along
|
| In the same old bar
|
| Though friends gone wrong
|
| Well he once had love but I never got that far
|
| She must have angels on her shoulders
|
| Their light wherever she may be
|
| She says the angels do not know her
|
| I guess I’m the only one who sees
|
| So I got my drink
|
| And my fix my rose
|
| But I need much more
|
| Than this powdered blue and rented tuxedo
|
| I need a line
|
| A-something she don’t know
|
| Cause' she’s probably heard them all a thousand times
|
| So I caught her eye
|
| For the next song
|
| And the waltz replaced
|
| The tango like she knows that I don’t belong
|
| In these shoes
|
| I feel all wrong
|
| But that’s just my pride, what have I got to lose?
|
| Well last call called
|
| But I didn’t hear
|
| I was too busy looking
|
| At her across the remnants of my beer
|
| She stood to leave
|
| And then it all came clear
|
| That life without her was all I had to fear
|
| You must have angels on your shoulders
|
| Their light wherever you may be
|
| She asks me would I like to show her?
|
| I think I might be just the guy you need |