I feel you're away-slipping
And I must not stand sleeping
In this slick road we are pulling you

But I've too greasy hands

Hey girl please listen to me

You have so many someone else's light bulb overhead
To enlighten your way, but curiously they're blurring you
You wanted that Saturday to be free

But they changed your mind

Tired of hearing that child scolding you

Tired of bearing that child in front of you
Which counts your money and drifts you honey from me


I feel you're away-slipping
And I must not stand sleeping
In this slick road we are pulling you

And I've too greasy hands

Another book already read

A girl who keeps pinioned her wings
Bold face against bald wig
Warm quilt against a cold wind

Seems in vain the words in Spain

Tired of hearing that child scolding you

Tired of bearing that child in front of you
Which counts your money and drifts you honey from me


Makes me feel so useless
I'm claimed as I am the guilty of all of their sins