| There is a dark and rolling sea
|
| Between my love and me
|
| As I walk through this cold and lonesome town
|
| There is a wish for better days
|
| I need a place to stay
|
| If it’s just a board to spread my blanket down
|
| Often roll to change my shirt
|
| Just to wash away the dirt
|
| Then it’s over to American Express
|
| Not a letter do I find
|
| She’s didn’t mean and send a line
|
| No one knows she has my forwarding address
|
| If I could beg, steal or borrow
|
| A ticket on someone ship or plane
|
| I’d leaving London tomorrow
|
| To fly to my own true love again
|
| Last night at The Troubadour
|
| Was so full, they barred the door
|
| I sang a song that she learn so well
|
| But it wouldn’t take too long
|
| To make up another song
|
| At a lonesome and a sad farewell
|
| If I could beg, steal or borrow
|
| A ticket on someone ship or plane
|
| I’d leaving London tomorrow
|
| To fly to my own true love again |