Wednesday 6 March 2019

The Snow Plow Blues



Snow drifts down, to the ground
All my stuff is just lyin around.
I'm so untidy in my dressin' gown.
Since you left me, all I do is frown.

Every winter, forests die.
Cold dead fingers scratch the sky.
No more honey means no more money now, cos
since you been gone, I can't drive my plow

No adoration equals, no motivation
This town there is no place to go.
No motivation means no remuneration
Because of all the fuckin snow.

The pipes are frozen, the heating is off.
There's funny noises coming down from the loft.
I can see my breath now, I'll catch my death, I know.
Ask my reflection, “Why did you have to go?”

No adoration equals, no motivation
this town has ground to a halt
No motivation means no remuneration
because there is no fuckin sal -

-all I ever wanted, all I ever wanted, was you to love me.
No need to look so daunted, this ol' house isn't haunted.
Apart from me.

Goodbye Christmas, see you New Year.
All I want is another beer.
I'll drink my sorrows, no more tomorrows, now.
Since you been gone, I can't start my plow.

No fornication equals poor circulation.
This town is making me sick.
All my extremities are turnin to ice
And that's includin my fuckin di -

-id I ever tell you, did I ever tell you, that I love you?
Did I never mention that I would never place another, above you?

Snow drifts down, to the ground
All my stuff is just lyin around.


Words & Music © Chris R Young 2019. All rights reserved.

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