Rush hour came crawling out of the best laid plans of noon
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The vodka in the fridge at home sang with a haunting tune.
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But I haven’t heard a song I love in seven weeks or more
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I wondered if that little bird won’t land here no more
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You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June
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I’ve gone three miles in second gear and now I’m down to first
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Bring me a little water Sylvie, I’m dying here of thirst
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How can I tear the bottom out of these ass-drag blues?
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If I cannot hack it here can I go back to paying dues?
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You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June
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Well leave me here for dead is the song of my sigh
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As I pull off at Queensland beach and let the traffic by
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A southern breeze sings me home I wade in a western tune.
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Well the sea may rake my sorrow back but it come crashing back too soon
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You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June
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You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June
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Can't Count Tears
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| Old Man Luedecke |
