Tourin' the Thrush

Tourin' the thrush And over the moon Spilled glass a milk I got the blues Worn to the bone And late walks alone Tall tales of withering Tomes First fist fight follows A crash at the ball The king tries to tell her Go home She runs the gambling rings Runs to the phone Cries operator We're through Tell them that Jack the knife Is more than a friend Tell them they look good Just dance See that young barman He came and he went See that my mother gets home See that Dad's shoes will be worn Rockabye rolls on The locomotive Feeling around In the dark Chair gets knocked over And I lose the blues Finally found The old man Sharpen your knives For generations Tie the noose high For your friends I'll be just watchin' Dancing bears thrash Carnies'll be popping the corn Louie can be found by his horn Gone out the ward Finally free Find the old farm And chop that old tree Get out my morgue I need to breathe Lord the game's over It's time to admit Pass me the telephone Cranes in the car wash Stare as we sin You hangin' on to my arm Swear I ain't lost my charm