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I get home after one and the dog looks drunk |
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He should walk it off with that little strut he does |
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Yes, I dug up the dirt and heard from little birds who'd gotten hurt |
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That you were mean before me, love |
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You could throw a stone, but can't we all? |
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So we man our shops and fix up where the kids have picked the locks |
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And then the moon makes wolves of us |
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And we battle lust |
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But don't follow me now |
|
Don't be howling |
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You're too much, you're too soon |
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You want me to come up to your room |
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And I want to too but |
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I'm with him and you're with you |
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So what do we do now? |
|
The world throws up a hundred little clues |
|
And they all seem as doomed as us and it cuts and cuts |
|
But don't follow me now |
|
Don't be howling ' |
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Cause the feelings turn and the turning hurts |
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The wings of birds and the arms of girls |
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You've gone and lost your shoes and now you curse me and |
|
I curse you |
|
You're gone in the woods and now you're hurting and |
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I hurt too |
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You've gone and got me good |
