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Gun wears his alcoholism well |
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Finger in bottle and swingin' it still |
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From bed to sink and back again |
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Clock is crawlin' round the same |
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He's bustin' clock (he hates it's face) |
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Just sittin' and talkin' to heart and ticks |
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Talkin' back to clock in slow and studied kicks |
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The fears of gun are the fears of everyone. |
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Fingers down the throat of love |
|
Fingers down the throat of love |
|
Fingers down the throat of love |
|
Love! love! |
|
Gun does the waltz around the room |
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Collecting table and chairs and sofa and so on and so on |
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Gun wears his best blue suit, now let's take to the sky |
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'we'll go dancin' and eatin' it up |
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Get a bottle and push it on down' |
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And let's just beat it up |
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Transistor radio plays an overwhelmingly sad and lonely song |
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Saying 'where she gone? where she gone? ' |
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The fears of gun are the fears of everyone. |
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Fingers down the throat of love |
|
Fingers down the throat of love |
|
Fingers down the throat of love |
|
Love! love! |
