From the album Common Lot

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Jimmy Dowling: Vocals, Acoustic Guitar
Matt Walker: Guitar
Red Rivers: Guitar
Steve Hadley: Double Bass
Jono Wilson: Fiddle
Roger Bergodaz: Drums

Lyrics

Rustin’ I roll, beg and fake
joking, talking like a walking mistake.
Pent up, wounded, nothing’s clear
like a night’n a day in the cloak and dagger.

Well the colours I’ve seen could never compare,
to the sight of her sitting in that old wooden chair,
tipping the gin, turning the toast in that farm house
by the cane, on a river nigh the coast.

Well that gypsy in the corner sober at the wake,
turned my mind ‘round into her’s to take.
Knowing only drunks and children tell the truth,
was taken down a dream that’d been lost in youth.

She said, “you don’t need a reason for liking someone,
nor to be in love for the singing of a song.
Just say the word and I’ll take you there,
but whatever you do tell no one you care.”

There’s a lonely magic ‘neath a wharf lamp of rain,
resting to the view on the bow.
Tied up by the co-op, not a soul to sea,
but here it is for now.

When you’re all to yourself
well you’re always on time.
Not a hand to hold and it’s just fine
when the growing of a flower cut short for a bouquet,
turns your night into mourning for another day.

Rust and roll, beg and fake
joking, talking like a walking mistake.
Pent up, wounded, nothing’s clear
like a night and a day in the cloak and dagger.