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Leftovers |
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I've been drooling |
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At some mangy scraps of bread |
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And these hungry voices |
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Make a lot of noise inside my head |
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Show me the way to the rubbish dump |
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Or the bins at closing time |
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I'd walk a mile just to catch a smile |
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From a fish without its prime |
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Been hanging round the underground |
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Found a couple of crumbs down there |
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Was lucky and got some flotsam |
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From a girl with long brown hair |
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She said her name was Mary May |
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And she liked the springtime, oh |
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She said she left the meal half ate |
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She said she left the crusts of toast |
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Leftovers is what I want |
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Don't need no fine cuisine |
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Give me a dime for bacon rind |
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Or slip me some of that old sardine |
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She'd been seeing a man named Jim |
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I said I didn't mind |
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Said the second place is just my style |
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I'd glasses for the line |
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I felt she was keen to come |
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And I knew I'd met my match |
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I was sure that I had locked the door |
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And she had dropped the latch |
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Leftovers is what I want |
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Don't need no fine cuisine |
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Give me a dime for bacon rind |
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Or slip me some of that old sardine |
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I said, "Bring your dark eyes honey" |
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She said, "You bring yours" |
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Said I don't take second glance |
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So she walked out the door |
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I walked after her, it weighed me down |
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And asked her why she left |
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She said she only dealt leftovers |
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And that all else felt like theft |
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Leftovers is what I want |
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Don't need no fine cuisine |
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Give me a dime for bacon rind |
|
Or slip me some of that old sardine |
|
|
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Leftovers is what I want |
|
Don't need no fine cuisine |
|
Give me a dime for bacon rind |
|
Or slip me some of that old sardine |
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If you see her say hello |
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She'll be out handing scraps |
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But don't be fooled, her heart is ruled |
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By forces off the maps |
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Show me the way to the rubbish dump |
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Or the bins at closing time |
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I'd walk a mile just to catch a smile |
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From a fish without its prime |
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|
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Leftovers is what I want |
|
Don't need no fine cuisine |
|
Give me a dime for bacon rind |
|
Or slip me some of that old sardine |
