you haven't washed your face in days
and your cotton shirt is holy
you used to live your life so fast

now you find the days drag slowly
the only one that you adore
turns your woman ice berg blue

you blame it on the bottle now
boy has this town crippled you
no gulls flying

no fishes swimming
just lowered voice
and fallen women

it's cold at the sailor's rest
and your king of all that's lowly
you're praying on a phantom check

and the river's smiling coldly
you want the life you can't afford
after all that you've been through

soon it will be over
boy has this town crippled you
no gulls flying

no fishes swimming
just lowered voice
and fallen women

man and baby
and storm cloud weather
who counts your blessings

now and forever