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