Left them all behind
On a cold winter morning
Never took the time to say
Goodbye
Said she'd lost her voice
Somewhere deep down inside
A place she still likes
To hide
And if we ever get out of here alive
I work for you babe
We're in the wrong trade
After the ice age
We'll still be laying these
Tables for ladies
Came out of the sun
My perfect stranger
You can't imagined how hard it gets
And time flies by
Like a petulant glacier
With a stone in its shoe
If we ever get out of here alive
I work for you babe
We're in the wrong trade
After the ice age
We'll still be laying these
Tables for ladies
Lyrics by:
Squire
Available on:
Marshall's House (2.45)
Details:
In this painting, the viewer is outside (perhaps hungry, as the Great Depression took hold of America) a finely displayed restaurant in 1930.
Back To John Squire Songs Back To Marshall's House