Honey put down that flyswatter
|
And pour me some ice water
|
And would you bring me my hammer
|
And could you find me some nails
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For soon I'll be going
|
To work for this living
|
And with you here to guide me
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Then I cannot fail
|
|
The morning it stumbles
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Right in through the window
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And this getting up early
|
Gets old anyway
|
And if you listen close dear
|
The crying that you hear
|
Is the nighttime lamenting
|
The start of the day
|
|
And it's hotter than concrete
|
In July in Houston
|
And it'll get worse here
|
Before it turns nice
|
But old Tink's in the backyard
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And I swear that boy's so smart
|
He's got everything ready
|
So we'll be all right
|
|
So honey put down that flyswatter
|
And pour me some ice water
|
And though I'll soon be going
|
Well I haven't gone yet
|
So come stand here beside me
|
And hold my hand gently
|
And tell me do you remember
|
The first time we met
|
|
-----------------
|
Flyswatter/Ice Water Blues (Monte Trenckmann's Blues)
|
| Lyle Lovett |
