Blew The Dust Off A Wooden Box
And Set It On The Piano
Nasty Words Came From Its Mouth
The Bite Marks Were To Follow
I Should Have Given It Away
Now I Never Dream
Wide Awake For Much Too Long
My Eyes Glued To The Table
Tried To Feign Authority
But Sadly Wasn't Able
And Then It Threw Me To The Floor
I Never Dream
They Say I'm Late By Half A Century
He Died In 1943
I Can't Just Leave
(He Smells It When I'm Gone)
So I Just Take It In My Sleep
The Road Is Going'
Me: 'Ask For Her Another Day'
The Spade's Up Your Sleeve
There's Sweat On Your Brow
And I Will Be Damned
If I Let You Back Into This Town
December 17th, 1955 - Broken
Seven Hours Passed On Your Floor
Seven Hours Isn't That Long
Seven Hours Isn't