A Sweet Little Bullet From A Pretty Blue Gun

But it's raining, it's pouring
Didn't bring a sweater
Nebraska never lets you come back home
No Hollywood wine by the thrifty mart sign

Any night, I'll be willin' to bet
There's a young girl
With sweet little dreams, pretty blue wishes
Standin' there, just gettin' all wet

And now there's a place off the drag
Called the Gilbert Hotel
And now the couple letter
Burned out in the sign

And it's better than the bus stop
And they do good business every time it rains
For little girls with nothing in their jeans
Pretty blue wishes, sweet little dreams

And it's raining, it's pouring
The old man is snoring
Now I lay me down to sleep
I hear the sirens in the street

All my dreams are made of chrome
I have no way to get back home
I'd rather die before I wake like Marilyn Monroe
And you could throw my dreams out in the street
And let the rain make 'em grow

Now the night clerk, he got a club foot
He's heard every hard luck story
At least a hundred times or more
He says, check out time is 10:00 a.m.

And that's just what he means
Go on up the stairs
With your sweet little wishes
Your pretty blue dreams

And it's raining, it's pouring
And Hollywood's just fine
Swindle a little girl out of her dreams
Now the letter in the sign

Now, never trust a scarecrow wearin' shades after dark
Be careful of that old bow tie he wears
It takes a sweet little bullet from a pretty blue gun
To put those scarlet ribbons in your hair

No, that ain't no cherry bomb
Fourth of July's all done
It's just some fool playin' that second line
From the barrel of a pretty blue gun

No, that ain't no cherry bomb
Fourth of July's all done
That some fool playin' that second line
From the barrel of a pretty blue gun



Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Alan Waits
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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