(Beth Nielsen Chapman and Bill Lloyd)
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There's a woman in a wool suit
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Carrying an infant
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Coming through the bank doors
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Late for some appointment
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Now she rushes to the front desk
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And she talks to the receptionist
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Who motions to the telephone
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Over in the waiting room
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She's calling someone
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But I can't see much from where I sit
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I'm stuck here in this drive-through window
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Waiting in this line
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There goes the diaper bag
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The baby's slipping on her hip
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Before my car moves up an inch
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They both have started crying
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All the time in the world
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Climbs the walls, swells the doors
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It goes flying out the window
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All the time in the world...
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These precious days we live through
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Thrown away like tissue
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I wish that I could give you all the time in the world
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Dresses on a clothesline
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Dancing in a heat wave
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Browning in the car fumes
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Blowing off the interstate
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Now I'm clicking past the lightpoles
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Glancing down the cornrows
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Dreaming in a straight line
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Waking up in circles
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And did I say I've got the right to want it all
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Well if it's true I want it all
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How could that do me any harm
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I'll take my curves, I'll dodge the cops
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I'll jump the ditches
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Doing eightly miles an hour
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Slammin' back into your arms
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All The Time In The World
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| Beth Nielsen Chapman |
