#122 TIME’S GETTING SHORTER
#122 TIME'S GETTING SHORTER
(Americana Blues-Rock)
(DEMO)
(Full Arrangement)
Set my guitar case down at the corner table,
Foot on the brass bar-rail, ordered a beer.
Old man staring at my tats and piercings,
Turns to his pal, says "They let all types in here."
They say time's getting shorter,
Better do what you oughta:
Find yourself a good, steady man,
Have two sons, maybe a daughter.
I say to hell with your petunias,
What you say my ways are doin' to ya.
I'm making noise -- mixing taste and trouble,
Gonna do what I say I oughta,
As my time's getting shorter.
After my first set, old man stumbles up,
Burps, says "Damn girl, you can play that thing!"
I nod, then just stare. He sways back to his table,
Yells at his pal -- "I'd marry her if she could sing!"
They say time's getting shorter,
Better do what you oughta:
Get a steady-freddy career,
Be a lawyer, banker, doctor
I say to hell with your petunias,
What you say my ways are doin' to ya.
I'm making noise -- mixing taste and trouble,
Doin' what I say I oughta,
As my time's getting shorter.
Dan at the bar pays my share end of night,
Says "That old coot yapping? -- He's just not right."
Smiles and leans close -- "Want to hang for a while?"
I stare -- "Think us together makes your wife smile?"
He glares, I laugh. Kiss his wrist, tell him it's cool.
Just gotta be home in time to take Courtney to school.
They say time's getting shorter,
Better do what you oughta:
Work as a lawyer, banker, doctor
Buy a pony for your blonde-haired daughter.
I say to hell with your petunias,
And what you say my ways are doin' to ya.
I'll make my noise -- mix my taste and trouble,
Gonna keep doin' what I say I oughta,
Every morning school runs for my blonde-haired daughter,
As all our time's getting shorter.