Pour my wine

The wind’s been blowing way too long
And I’m starting to lose my mind
And now the rain’s started
And I’m broken-hearted
I’m running three hours behind

I know I said that I’d be home in time for the evening news
The world’s conspired and I’m so tired
I’m starting to live the blues

Just pour my wine
I’ll be fine
Give me time
I’m coming home to you

Another train’s passed and it won’t be the last
But it’s the same as the three before
I could hire a car but if they’ve gone too far
I’m here until they open the door

I keep my pain way down deep
Where no one else can see
It feels so right
But sometimes at night
It’s starting to eat at me

Just pour my wine
I’ll be fine
Give me time
I’m coming home to you

(bass solo)

(spoken)
Sometimes I feel like I’m in the middle of a really bad Andy Warhol story. When I’m just famous for being fifteen minutes late. I mean, that’s on a good day. It also depends on how important the meeting, or the appointment – the rendezvous – whatever it is. How important it is directly relates to how late I’ll be. Could be a couple of days, sometimes. Almost makes you totally believe that there’s someone up there. Someone controlling things. Otherwise, why would these things happen? Like there’s God, or gods, up there… just having a laugh. Having a laugh. Enjoying a glass of wine, and just having a laugh. Just having a laugh.

Pour my wine
I’ll be fine
Give me time
I’m coming home to you

Ah just pour my wine
Yeah I’ll be fine
Just give me time
I’m coming home to you

I’m coming home
I’m coming home to you
I’m coming home to you
I’m coming home

I’m coming home… to you…