Love is better than a warm trombone,
When goin' south my two-toned brother.
Down on luck by chance,
Carress her head I've had to build a little trance.
With his hands in his pockets he could not find.
With his hands in his pockets he began to cry.
With his hands in his pockets he lowered his eyes.
He said "Miss I ought to, apologise,
I've been falling down."
A river, of your lovelorn souls.
Getting deeper than the deepest damn washing bowl, my brother.
Get the dirt off your hands.
Getting darker than a sun-chased suntan.
With his hands in his pockets he could not find.
With his hands in his pockets he began to cry.
With his hands in his pockets he lowered his eyes.
He said "Miss I ought to, apologise,
I've been falling down."
With his hands in his pockets he began to cry.
With his hands in his pockets he could not lie.
With his hands in his pockets he lowered his eyes.
He said "Miss I ought to, apologise,
I've been falling down."
More Love Is Better Than A Warm Trombone
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Rating: 2.74, 19 votes
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