Ed Harcourt album "Elephant's Graveyard" [Music World]

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #ALL

I've Become Misguided

When Americans Come to London

Last of the Troubadors

Little Silver Bullet

Blackwoods Back Home

The Hammer And The Nail

She Put a Curse on Me, Pts. 1 & 2

Only Happy When You're High

Breathe a Little Softer

I'm a sleepyhead, I'm always tired
I'm a sleepyhead, with no desire
To face the same old day
Go to the same old place

And yawn, there and back again

And the night is cold, my favourite
time
And the day is old, plays tricks on my
mind
Drive on the District Bridge
Then past the Dallas Ridge

And yawn, there and back again

To face the same old day
Go to the same old place

And yawn, there and back again

At the bottom of an empty glass
See myself going nowhere fast
And the barman tells me it's time to leave
But I haven't got time to care

If I have so much love to give
Where is that will to live?
Maybe you old friend will show me how
Come here pull up a chair

I get paid, paid to get drunk
Spend my money on any old junk
And every morning kills my soul
At the end, the end of each day
Every drink is directed my way
Well every morning kills my soul

Sports plays on the corner screen
This feels like a movie scene
And I'm long past done with clichés and all
My eyes are much to blurred

This is how I live my life
Escaping worries, eternal strife
And I'll try to talk to anyone
But my speech is much too slurred

I get paid, paid to get drunk
Spend my money on any old junk
And every morning kills my soul
At the end, the end of each day
Every drink is directed my way
Well every morning kills my soul

Oh ah oh
Oh ah
Oh oh oh
Ah ah ah

At the bottom of an empty glass
See myself going nowhere fast
And the barman tells me it's time to leave
But I haven't got time to care

Well, they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night
Now they blew up his house, too
Down on the boardwalk they're getting ready for a fight
Gonna see what them racket boys can do

Now there's trouble busing in from out of state
And the D.A. can't get no relief
Gonna be a rumble out on the promenade
And the gambling commission's hanging on by the skin of its teeth

And everything dies, baby, that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Well, I got a job and tried to put my money away
But I got into debts that I could not pay
So I drew what I had from the Central Trust
And I bought us two tickets on that Coast City bus

And everything dies, baby, that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Now our luck may have died and our love may be cold
But with you forever I'll stay
And we're going out where the sand's turning to gold
So put on your stockings, 'cause the night's getting cold

Maybe everything dies, baby, that's a fact
Maybe everything that dies someday comes back

Now I've been looking for a job but it's hard to find
Down here, it's just winners and losers and don't get caught on the wrong side of that line
Well, I'm tired of coming out on the losing end
So, honey, last night I met this guy, I'm gonna do a little favor for him

Well, I guess everything dies, baby, that's a fact
But maybe everything that dies someday comes back
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City
Meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Ed Harcourt Album