Dusty streets stare at me
|
Looking like a daytime nightmare
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I should shave, try to save
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Something of the man that's still there
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Not much left to say, of the man who stayed in Monterey
|
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The stucco stores' open doors
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Gape across the square and wonder
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As this mans trembling hands
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Tilt the bag his bottles under
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Things are looking grey, for the man who stayed in Monterey
|
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Honey, darling, sweetheart, precious angel, little dove
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The man who left you is looking pretty grim
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Hypnotising, paralysing wine is my new love
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'Cos it makes your memory soft and dim
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Now I walk from the park
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Bleary eyed and droopy shouldered
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Scruffy shoes, flopping loose
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I know I'm looking tired and older
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One more empty day, for the man who stayed in Monterey
|
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Photographs in my lap
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Sparkling colours rush up to me
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From the page, brown with age
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All these things I keep are truly
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Flowers on the grave, of the man who stayed in Monterey
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Flowers on the grave, of the man who stayed in Monterey
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The Man Who Stayed In Monterey
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| Roger Miller |
