Butcher the Bar
Bobby
Sneezing on the terrace tallReminded of the time I met the lawI should tell you somethingI didn't start a fightThe feeling of taking someone's lifeSeems it happened some years ago(?) light and bend the truthShe said he tried to take meThrough a blurry sightPressed up against this (?) wifeGot the drunken letter homeAppearing thought the telephoneAnd I'm trembling at the thoughtPalpitating at the thoughtYou were walking ahead that nightRushing back to do things, this and thatIt might've been a Sunday, or the day beforeTommy came along for the strollI never could tell what occupiedA face creates a faithful tasteThe police they found meTo (?) the newsSongtexteHelp recollect, respond to useShe dragged him down a corridorBefore you know, they're through the doorPlease come into my blue barStrips against the bedroom wallHide the whole thing, yeah we didPersuade as though we're left to liveNothing new to hideThey loyal (?) is pride
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