buckknuckle

Big brown eyes and a gust of wind
and the cherry burns a corner of the page that says the end
is coming soon, not soon enough
Restring all your guitars, pack up all your stuff

'Cause if Robert's dad is right
we might not make it through the night
And I'd hate to go alone
please pick up the phone.

Well a box of red and a pill or three
I'm calling time and temperature just for some company
I wish you were here, I wish I was too
I'll drink myself to sleeplessness
I always do

You don't want me anymore
Since fame and fortune broke down our door
You don't give me no respect
what did I expect

And if that phone don't ring one more time
I'm gonna lose what's left of my mind
You made a big impression for a girl of your size
Now I can't get by without you and your big brown eyes

Her hands are cold, her breath is warm
She's a port, in a storm
And I'm worried now but it won't be long
It takes a worried man to you know to sing a worried song

And I got issues, yeah.
Like I miss you, yeah.
And I wish I weren't so thick
I'm making myself sick.