My perfume is the river
And my moneys my liver
The bus ride homes forever, stuck behind the old Street sweeper
And I'm thinking in slow motion
Like an old piano playing
I can curse him it won't bring him lying quiet by my side
And I'm tired
I'm foolish
Town small and my love is useless
If it don't work on him
If it don't work on him
Streetlight heads are hanging
And my feet won't still for itching
Old roads I'm used to taking
Led me straight tonight for fiction
The bum lies out the shop keep while he's putting out a trash fire
There's a sale that runs midseasons sign says everything must go
And I'm tired.
I'm foolish.
Town small and my love is useless
If it don't work on him.
If it don't work on him.