All the hard-drinking stiffs
|
Are asleep on their cots
|
And fog's in barrels on Totten Pond Road
|
And the sots who remain
|
Strike matches and crane
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Cause they can't make their way in the dark
|
|
It's a hard parlor game
|
Playing miscues and pratfalls for laughs
|
From sad sacks and fairweather friends
|
You don't have to catch on
|
Lay it out and be gone
|
There's a calm's been a long time coming
|
|
Mary oh Mary go find the light
|
Take a hit from your whiskey and stumble inside
|
It's a tune from your childhood and a soft yellow moon
|
And the firelight is just right for dancing
|
|
Like the cruel April air
|
Plays muse to the hopeless
|
And the storms coax sunflowers from mossy old hills
|
May this song find you there
|
In your embroidered chair
|
With your afghan and warm Darjeeling
|
|
Mary oh Mary go find the light
|
Take a hit from your whiskey and stumble inside
|
It's a tune from your childhood and a soft yellow moon
|
And the firelight is just right for dancing
|
|
-----------------
|
Firelight Waltz
|
| Fountains Of Wayne |
