This didn?t used to be me, old boy This isn?t what I?d want Pullin' old night fighters In a restaurant There?s smoke and flames behind me Where the self
You can tell me your troubles, I?ll listen for free My regulars trust me, seems You can come and see Uncle to get through the week Leave your pledges
, son I?d kill to get crimson on this palette knife And I?d steal in a minute, I?m up to here in it You here behaving as though I?m a saint Get a job
Are you home from the sea, my soul balladeer You?ve been away roamin? far away from here Weathered a storm, your heart unafraid Crossed every ocean in
I'm a maker of ballads right pretty I write ?em right here in the street You can buy them all over the city Yours for a penny a sheet I'm a word pecker
?s teaching us waltzing Out on the gymnasium floor Out on the gymnasium floor McIntyre?s out of the army You?ll be slippered if you get it one McIntyre
They?re driving long nails into coffins You?ve been having sleepless nights You?ve gone as quiet as a church mouse And checking on your rights The boss
Sunday mornin?, here we are The boy?s come home Not quite the movie star He?s been in Hollywood The boy?s come home The boy?s done good He says she
True love will never fade I wonder if there's no forever No walking hand in hand Down a yellow brick road To never never land These days I get to where
into town She might take the top down On the car The quick little steps In the stiletto boots And the hair with the roots She comes in as a rule To get
get wild Hey, look at you baby Tell your daddy you're no child Hey, look at you baby We can get wild Hey, we can get wild We can get wild Get wild
When I gave my heart to a tinker boy He said a fish could love a swallow And I will go with my traveling man Wherever he goes, I will follow He will
This didn't used to be me, old boy This isn't what I'd want pulling old night fighters in a restaurant. There's smoke and flames behind me where the
You can tell me your troubles I'll listen for free. My regulars trust me, it seems. You can come and see Uncle to get trought the week leave your pledges
I'm a maker of ballads right pretty I write theme right here in the street You can buy theme all over the city yours for a penny a sheet I'm a word pecker
swim, son I'd kill to get crimson on this palette knife. And I'd steal in a minute I'm up to here in it You here behaving as though I'm a saint Get a
Are you home from the sea, my soul balladeer You've been away roaming far away from here weathered a storm, your heart unafraid crossed every ocean in
