Eugene McGrath - Waiting for Morning

Back on the Ten

I'll throw my guns on the table, leave my boots in the den
I'll take that whiskey drink my thimble, I'm going back to the ten

For the city life it brought me flowers
And it drown them in the midnight wine
My last paycheck has just burned out, Back on the ten I'll be fine

Mend the fences in the paddock, call on my sweet old friends
I'm sure I'll be sober come November, way back down on the ten

And when the city she sees me a-lone, she'll extend a hand to a friend
Come on son what are you doing, you don't belong on the ten

Back on the ten I'll be fine

Credits
Writer(s): Eugene Mcgrath
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