factory chimney cough yellow smoke
|
trucks and trains go rumbling
|
throw down your key from your window high
|
your man's out drinking
|
neighbours thinking evil
|
lead by the the lights of your electric fire
|
your grey slips falls around your feet
|
and across the sheet your nut brown curls go tumbling
|
|
we don't have long before he comes home from the bar
|
I'll be gone a week of sundays
|
meet me by the bronze horse or the clock tower
|
try to come Friday, Saturday maybe
|
don't cry now you'll freak the baby
|
|
-----------------
|
Saturday Maybe
|
The Incredible String Band |