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Brian Fallon & CRT - The Blues | Текст песни

Well I been downhearted baby, ever since the day we met.
So I hid behind all those old songs, baby how blue can you get...

And the smoke filled my lungs like I was dying,
And the summer sunset kissed my fingertips.

So someone grab my wrists and pull me out of this,
Take my money, take my wallet, take my shoes.
Get a good, good hold of me and pull on the count of three,
Just do whatever you've gotta do...
Do what you gotta do.

And it's cold outside on a Monday.
Maybe that's the weather's sympathy.
We hate the traffic and the tax forms, and our day jobs...
What ungrateful men are we.

What, then, do I do with all these feelings,
All the anger, all the there, but Grace, go I.

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