My tongue is scaling the north face of your neck And we're glaring like warriors But I've a feeling you won't look at me that way In the morning
‘Cause lately you seem less sure of this thing You're like Bambi on ice And there's something in the flash of your arms A certain longing
Kick the can, I can't see you now Behind that temper and ire Mister wolf knows what time it is He says it's dinner time
I don't know what you're carrying or how your heart is wired But there's a dangerous ticking I cut the red one
No, the blue one I cut the red one No, the blue one I cut the red one
I cut the red one I cut the blue one Raking over the embers and what I come across Raking over the embers and what I come across
Is that you, combing your hair? Is that me, eating an egg? And I’ll be there I’ll be there I’ll be there Like John Boy is
My tongue is scaling the north face of your neck And we're glaring like warriors But I've a feeling you won't look at me that way I've a feeling you won't look at me that way I've a feeling you won't look at me that way In the morning
(Is this how it goes In these final throes? Is this how it goes In these final throes?)
