At the back of her mind there’s a photograph
Of a child all alone in the dark
She can tell by the bell ringing back at her
She’s lost
Where are you going tonight?
Dressed like a ragdoll with holes in your tights
And your eyes as they roll in your head
Spin you around as you fall out the bed
But I’m not keeping time
Upon the creeping vine, vine
Oh, Sarah
You’ve done it all to yourself
With your bottle of gin on the shelf
And your love letters sent to yourself
Oh, Sarah
You used to say you were lucky
Now your luck’s running off down the stairs
And you realize nobody cares
Take the bottle of gin from the shelf
And pour me another
Sarah - Travis
