Your fingers are pinching that calico dress
Your hair is cascading in a calculated mess
Your lashes are fluttering their morse code to me
Line line dot line dot line stutter melodically
You whisper, "I really like your band"
Sorry ma'am I'm just the hired hand
I doff my cap as I show you to the door
I count the tip you dropped I stroke my cat he purrs for more
I'll bring the car around if you'd like I've got the keys
that you pressed between my fingers as I worked the mike now please
You whisper, "Don't worry bout the old man,
he thinks you're just the hired hand"
I'm a hired hand I'm just the hired hand
Please don't press your body up against mine
That would be out of line, I'm tired
I'm just a hired hand
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.