Webb Wilder Follow
Scattered, Smothered and Covered - Webb Wilder, Field, R.S. lyrics
My hands are black, the sun is going down
She scruffs my hair in the kitchen steam
She's listening to the dream I weaved today
Crosswords through the bathroom door
While someone sings the theme-tune to the news
And my sister buzzes through the room leaving perfume in the air
And that's what triggered this
I come back here from time to time, I shelter here some days
A high-back chair, he sits and stares
A thousand yards and whistles marching-band
Kneeling by and speaking up
He reaches out and I take a massive hand
Disjointed tales that flip between short trousers and a full dress uniform
And he talks of people ten years
Gone like I've known them all my life
Like scattered black 'n' whites
I come back here from time to time, I shelter here some days
I come back here from time to time, I shelter here some days
My hands are black, the sun is going down
She scruffs my hair in the kitchen steam
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