Gray, quiet and tired and mean Picking at a worried seam I try to make you mad at me over the phone. Red eyes and fire and signs I'm taken by a nursery rhyme I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home
No amount of coffee, no amount of crying No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine No, nothing else will do I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you.
The road gets cold, there's no spring in the middle this year I'm the new chicken clucking open hearts and ears Oh, such a prima donna, sorry for myself But green, it is also summer And I won't be warm till I'm lying in your arms
I see it all through a telescope: guitar, suitcase, and a warm coat Lying in the back of the blue boat, humming a tune...