Letra de Mean Old Sun
Empty promises I've given
Hollow heart beats in my chest
And every word of sterling silver
Hollow heart beats in my chest
And every word of sterling silver
Stirred butterflies beneath your breast
Still untouched by ties a-binding
Going where the gulf breeze blows
No ring of gold around your finger
No ring of brass run through my nose
Headlong for the wall now honey
Still coming up like a rose
Dead still in the garden
Waiting for the reveille
And the dawn is yet to dry the dew from off my Sunday clothes
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
Hear the song she sang in darkness
Tearful, fair, and free and fine
You're the one she softly whispers
My canary in the mine
Headlong for the wall now honey
Still coming up like a rose
Dead still in the garden
Waiting for the reveille
And the dawn is yet to dry the dew from off my Sunday clothes
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
I met a man, pale gray with wisdom
Told me faith will come collect
Hard tempered steel bites at my ankles
Soft cotton rove burns at my neck
Headlong for the wall now honey
Still coming up like a rose
Dead still in the garden
Waiting for the reveille
And the dawn is yet to dry the dew from off my Sunday clothes
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
Still untouched by ties a-binding
Going where the gulf breeze blows
No ring of gold around your finger
No ring of brass run through my nose
Headlong for the wall now honey
Still coming up like a rose
Dead still in the garden
Waiting for the reveille
And the dawn is yet to dry the dew from off my Sunday clothes
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
Hear the song she sang in darkness
Tearful, fair, and free and fine
You're the one she softly whispers
My canary in the mine
Headlong for the wall now honey
Still coming up like a rose
Dead still in the garden
Waiting for the reveille
And the dawn is yet to dry the dew from off my Sunday clothes
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
I met a man, pale gray with wisdom
Told me faith will come collect
Hard tempered steel bites at my ankles
Soft cotton rove burns at my neck
Headlong for the wall now honey
Still coming up like a rose
Dead still in the garden
Waiting for the reveille
And the dawn is yet to dry the dew from off my Sunday clothes
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
That mean old sun better rise up soon if it's ever gonna set on me
