Steve Earle Washington Square Serenade Red Is The Color North wind blowin` like a hurricane house Old man leanin` like he`s pullin` a plow Neck bowed, bendin` like a willow bough Red sky color of the end of time Bleeds dry runnin` down the center line Wise guy pretends he doesn`t see the signs Bad news everybody talkin` `bout A short fuse a half an inch from burnin` out All used up beyond a reasonable doubt Make way for his majesty the prodigal king Still taste the poison when you`re kissin` the ring Don`t say he never gave you anything Deep breath the calm before the storm begins Cold sweat pretend that you ain`t listenin` Don`t bet on gettin` by with that again Short ride from here to where the beast resides Fine line that separates the shadows inside Make mine a double shot of cyanide |
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