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Your skin is cold, but |
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The sun shines within your hold |
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Your hair is gold, but you see through a goldfish bowl |
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I feel old, sick and tired |
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We walk the streets, gently staring, wondering what to do |
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The sun in sheets, pouring down those streets to eyes green and blue |
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And a ship with eight sails could come 'round the bend |
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Or a herd of bulls charging stop lights red |
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I'd be blind |
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Chorus: you broke my heart danny boy |
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Not your fault danny boy |
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I was hanged at the doorstep, played like a two to a fourset |
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Had like poor job in the bible by god |
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Day comes i wake, i wake with a hard heartache |
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I go down to your place |
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We sit and chat, chat about new york |
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And trips to the bayou |
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My smile a trick, tricking me and trying not to scare you |
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And a ship with eight sails could come 'round the ben |
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Or a herd of bulls charging stop lights red |
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I'd be blind |
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Chorus |
