You can't write a novel from a briefcase
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You can write a poem from a trench
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You can dream a dream from A to B
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But you can't catch a bus from a bench
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You don't back a horse called Striding Snail
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You don't name your boat Titanic II
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So why when I see your happy smiling face
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Do I always end up singing Little Blue
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Little Blue, how do you do
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Your smile looks like heaven
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but your eyes hold a storm about to brew
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Little Blue
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How can a flower so pretty
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be so laden down with dew
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Little Blue
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How can a flower so pretty
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be so laden down with dew
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Little Blue
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You can't build a brewery on a cemetery
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You can build a pub on a church
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And people fall quicker than buildings do
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You have to decide what comes first
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You don't call a plane the Flying Roman
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'Cause the Romans always walked and never flew
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So why when I see your happy smiling face
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Do I always end up singing Little Blue
|
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Little Blue, how do you do
|
Your smile looks like heaven
|
but your eyes hold a storm about to brew
|
Little Blue
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How can a flower so pretty
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be so laden down with dew
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Little Blue
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Well Bukowski wrote a story from a barstool
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And Keats from the top of a hill
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So I'm going to save my special song for you
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From a grave where it's quiet and it's chill
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'Cause there's a queue of clouds assembled
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On the horizon of your smile
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When most think that you're holding back
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I know you're holding bile
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Little Blue, how do you do
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Your smile looks like heaven
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but your eyes hold a storm about to brew
|
Little Blue
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How can a flower so pretty
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be so
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-----------------
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Little Blue
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| Beautiful South |
