The Green Hour

Brave companions;
The scene is set, the stage falling apart
Pick up your feet, prop up your hearts
Queen of poisons
The waiter fills your glass up to the line
You knock yours back, I sip at mine

Put out a call for the dancing girls
Think of Toulouse, he'll be turning in his grave
Raising the roof for the curtain call
The muscles in their legs, their routines gather pace
And counting time

No sense of danger;
A liability unto herself
His jaded smile, her failing health
Fixes her make-up
Puts on a face to haunt the boulevard
The paints are dry, the brush is hard

Put out a call for the dancing girls
Think of Toulouse, he'll be turning in his grave
Raising the roof for the curtain call
The muscles in their legs, their routines gather pace
And counting time

Survey the room, electric death
One cigarette could light your breath
A magnet for the dispossessed

Kiss a stranger
Why not hang up your coat, lay down your cane?
Struggle to remember her name
And now the laughter
The shrieking and the crying in the streets
The night is young, but the day is beat

Put out a call for the dancing girls
Think of Toulouse, he'll be turning in his grave
Raising the roof for the curtain call
The muscles in their legs, their routines gather pace
And counting time



Credits
Writer(s): Ric Blow
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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