the morning comes to a stuttering halt
the cool breeze that blows is somebody's fault
the summer heat tries to burn through
and i look over to warn you but something's happening
the morning glories climb the wall
and you speak in a slow drawl
i'm trying to piece together what you're saying
but the birds are screeching, the hounds are baying
i don't remember there being any hounds around here
we lean back and we clink our gla**es
raise the drinks to our thirsty mouths,
and thick as mola**es ice cold vodka eases in as
the low pressure system brings the breezes in
and they sashay and pirouette above you
the only thing i know is that i love you
and i'm holding on,
yeah