What¡¯s the matter here?
|
You'll never repair
|
The lady¡¯s cursed with insight
|
You'll never fix her, with a cold stare
|
She¡¯s all broken inside
|
|
She made a good go, like a weeping willow
|
Her limbs clung to the ground
|
She closed the window, and made a pillow
|
And lay her head down
|
And as her babies slept, she took a long deep breath
|
|
Now they¡¯re zipping her up in a bag
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
And the Cadillac¡¯s waiting to take her away
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
|
Another head cold, another spirit old
|
Mmmm, February
|
Her hair was dirty, and she was 30 in 1963
|
And while her babies slept she took a long deep breath
|
|
And they¡¯re zipping her up in a bag
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
The Cadillac¡¯s waiting to take her away
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
And drag, and drag, and drag¡¦
|
|
She made a good go, for a weeping willow
|
She stuffed some rags on the floor
|
She closed the window
|
She made a pillow on the oven door
|
And took a long deep breath
|
While her babies slept
|
|
Now they¡¯re zipping her up in a bag
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
And the Cadillac¡¯s waiting to take her away
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
|
They¡¯re zipping her up in a bag
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
The Cadillac¡¯s waiting to take her away
|
Can you hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
Hear her blacks crackle and drag
|
|
-----------------
|
Crackle and Drag
|
Paul Westerberg |