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lyrics
Go see them, down South now,
They’ll see you’re well looked after.
See a boy there, mournful & fair,
Works the tables to keep him in the share.
Don’t say those words again
‘Cause you’ve got the kind of nerve I like.
Tell him “no” don’t mean he’s lost her,
She was young then, things were stranger.
Say she’s warm & well looked after,
Though her heart’s been growin’ ever colder.
Don’t say those words again
‘Cause you’ve got the kind of nerve I like.
Though here the winds blow,
& winter’s stone coat
Has covered up all sun & shelter,
She remembers how you held her,
On the warm floor of the bunker.
Don’t say those words again
‘Cause you’ve got the kind of nerve I like.
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Stumbling upon Tiny Ruins felt like when I first stumbled upon Leonard Cohen in my late teens. The lyrics, the music, the voice come together in a unique melancholic and tender delivery. Loving it! that.bowl.of.petunias