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Upon the sand, upon the bay |
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"There is a quick and easy way", you say |
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Before you illustrate |
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I'd rather state |
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I'm not the man you think I am |
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I'm not the man you think I am |
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And sorrow's native son |
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He will not smile for anyone |
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And pretty girls make graves |
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End of the pier, end of the bay |
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You tug my arm, and say, "Give in to lust |
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Give up to lust, oh Heaven knows |
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We'll soon be dust" |
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Oh, I'm not the man you think I am |
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I'm not the man you think I am |
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And sorrow's native son |
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He will not rise for anyone |
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And pretty girls make graves |
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Oh really? |
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I could have been wild and I could have been free |
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But nature played this trick on me |
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She wants it now and she will not wait |
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But she's too rough and I'm too delicate |
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Then on the sand |
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Another man, he takes her hand |
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A smile lights up her stupid face |
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And well, it would |
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I lost my faith in womanhood |
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I lost my faith in womanhood |
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I lost my faith |
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Hand in glove |
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The sun shines out of our behinds |
