William Topley - Upon the Vine lyrics

The grapes are rotting upon the vine The flies are trapped baby behind The blind The cider apples are bruised and sore And they lay claim darling against Your door Where is the power to pull the tides To block out the sun darling and Cloud the sky Where is the mistress of my desire Now you're cold So cold You press the flowers, you kiss The bride You look so happy, where's that tonight I hear the voices inside your brain Of rusted yard art out in the rain Where is the power to pull the tides To block out the sun darling and Cloud the sky Where is the mistress of my desire Now you're cold All you need is divine forgiveness And help to harvest your wine I send your money to Santa Ana And pray for you sometimes Where is the mistress of my desire Now you're cold All you need is divine forgiveness And help to harvest your wine I send your money to Santa Ana And pray for you sometimes And I can't take no more thrills with My sadness And I'm not walking your line no more I know you numbered the beats of my heart On the Sierra Madre floor