Walking Papers 2

King Hooker

He wears a ring on every finger

He holds his luck in a silver dime

He’s been known to have a nasty temper

If he don’t get paid on time

He drives a white El Dorado

He leaves the keys inside and the windows down

‘Cause all the boys down on Michigan Avenue

Know that he don’t mess around.

God I know your busy

But I’ve never asked you for anything

I know you’ve got your own way of getting things done

But there’s another broken heart

Waiting for the phone to ring

This is the oldest profession

She’s a champion on the track

If her feet give her trouble

She just lays there on her back

Don’t send money man don’t send flowers

Don’t call her on the telephone every half an hour

She obsessed with sex money and power

And you’ll find yourself left behind

God I know your busy

But I’ve never asked you for anything

I know you’ve got your own way of getting things done

But there’s another broken heart

Waiting for the phone to ring 

The Storm Below

It’s time to drop the anchor

The storm is closing in

I can see it in the clouds

I can smell it on the wind

I’m floating on the black

In the back of your eyes

On an ocean of tears

Under desolate skies

There’s light in the distance but it makes it hard to see

What’s right in front of me

The tornado touches down

And it grabs a hold of me

There’s no one else around

Not as far as the eye can see

Where do you stop?

Where do I begin?

With pockets full of rocks

I’m learning to swim

There’s light in the distance but it makes it hard to see

What’s right in front of me

I didn’t choose

I didn’t have a choice

I was drawn in like a sailor

To a siren’s voice

Now you wear me around your neck like jewelry

Like a promise waiting to be broken

There’s light in the distance but it makes it hard to see

What’s right in front of me