Drunken Lady Of The Morning

Drunken Lady of the Morning

The drunken lady of the morning stumbles down the street
And makes a joke of every tipsy minute
Her true love is the garbage man, he sweeps her off her feet
It’s not a perfect world but she is in it

She’d like to try and make the morning smile
And hold it to her breast a little while
Or rock it to sleep just like a child

Now she feels her bones to be the stones to pave the slippery streets
She’d like to wear a building for a bonnet
And she wonders if the world will wait ‘til she can stand up straight
It’s been so fast she just can’t stand up on it

She’d like to use the magic in her mind
Turn the oil slicks in the streets to wine
Or just polish a policeman’s eyes until they shine

Now the drunken lady of the morning mumbles as she swings
Her head’s so heavy she can barely lift it
And smashing glass she curses at the bottle that she flings
It’s not a perfect love but she sleeps with it

She’s like to tray and make the morning cry
And tell the rising sun another lie
Or choke the light of day like

Feeling fine so we’ll drink wine