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Toward the end of our first year in las vegas |
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You looked up from your little corner |
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And i saw that your face was getting a little brighter |
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And you asked me is it really getting warmer |
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Or is it just me |
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And then you started mumbling unintelligibly |
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So what are you saying anyway? |
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I thought i heard bells ringing |
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But then i remembered that i no longer knew what bells sounded like |
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I thought maybe we'd strike up a conversation |
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'till bad luck cruised by on his ten-speed bike |
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I got real cold |
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And i grabbed my coat |
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And i saw that the ringing was coming from your throat |
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What are you saying anyway? |
