I was holding up a cigarette and trying to find my mouth
|
Tyring hard to look so cool like any other ticket tout
|
People sipping on each other's blood, they're all out for the count
|
Talking turkey all around me, what are they all on about?
|
|
It's the world and all its problems
|
The world and all its problems
|
The world and all its problems
|
|
|
I'm walking out it's past midnight, so I stay in the light
|
Please stop breathing on my shoulder, he's just trying to start a fight
|
He says "What was that you called me?" And something says I might
|
Just try to reason with him, where's the beaten track tonight?
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
Jesus Gandhi's on a limb out where good guys don't go
|
Telling all these parables that everybody knows
|
And no-one wants to hear them cos he tells them all so slow
|
You can catch him on the news when he becomes a superhero
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
|
I'm sitting on your sofa
|
Thinking about how things rhyme
|
How I wish you'd plug the dansette in
|
And turn it up just one more time
|
One more time
|
|
|
Everybody wants all the truth but it's easier to lie
|
Me I love this girl called Ruth, we had to say goodbye
|
I loved her so much sometimes that it made me wanna die
|
And I'd hate her so much sometimes and we knew the reason why
|
|
|
(Chorus)
|
|
-----------------
|
The World (And All Its Problems)
|
John Wesley Harding |