Crown of Smoke Songtext
von Jeffrey Foucault
Crown of Smoke Songtext
She′s married to the ladies at the bar
She's married to the bar and to the ladies who say
"Are you alright here, hon?
Is everything alright here, hon?"
Like it′s her drink they're asking after
And not the man who's talking at her
As she warms the whiskey
In her mouth and writes a letter
And wants a cigarette
She gave up on love somewhere along the way
Along the way somewhere she gave up on love
She gave up on other things
Babies and wedding rings
And now she crosses the room like the dancer she was
And drifts through the cocktail crowd
Playing grown-ups with a dollar in her hand
For the internet jukebox she hates
And plays every time
She plays "Desperado"
Sometime around closing she steps outside
She steps outside sometime around closing
Looks up at the city sky
The strange light as the clouds push by
And in the stillness
She wears a pale crown of smoke
Alone on the street in a thrift store coat
With the words to the song still running
Through her mind
Her feet aren′t cold and it′s wintertime
She's married to the ladies at the bar
Married to the bar and to the ladies who say
"Are you alright here, hon?
Is everything alright here, hon?"
She's married to the bar and to the ladies who say
"Are you alright here, hon?
Is everything alright here, hon?"
Like it′s her drink they're asking after
And not the man who's talking at her
As she warms the whiskey
In her mouth and writes a letter
And wants a cigarette
She gave up on love somewhere along the way
Along the way somewhere she gave up on love
She gave up on other things
Babies and wedding rings
And now she crosses the room like the dancer she was
And drifts through the cocktail crowd
Playing grown-ups with a dollar in her hand
For the internet jukebox she hates
And plays every time
She plays "Desperado"
Sometime around closing she steps outside
She steps outside sometime around closing
Looks up at the city sky
The strange light as the clouds push by
And in the stillness
She wears a pale crown of smoke
Alone on the street in a thrift store coat
With the words to the song still running
Through her mind
Her feet aren′t cold and it′s wintertime
She's married to the ladies at the bar
Married to the bar and to the ladies who say
"Are you alright here, hon?
Is everything alright here, hon?"
Writer(s): Jeffrey Foucault Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com