Sally

Snared about her winsome glance and mad about the town
Kicking heels has lost its charm and every boy’s a clown
Leave a trail of dusted boots and choose a toecap then
Or kiss me here or kick me there; lovers won’t be friends
I’m a plough and you’re a furrow; I’m a fox and you’re a burrow
I’m a weed and you are the road; you were a man (You were a man)
And I’m alone…
Sally was a daisy chain and Sally was a rock
Sally let her hair hang low and Sally wore a frock
Someone saw a local boy crawl along the shore
«Well, must be someone’s son,» they thought and should’ve thought some more
I’m a plough and you’re a furrow; I’m a fox and you’re a burrow
I’m a weed and you are the road; you were a man (You were a man)
And I’m alone…
Sally saw the boy come near right beneath the sun
Breathing hard and cockle proud and Sally’s heart was won
Not a boy she knew at first, not a face she’d seen
Or whispered through her ready lips, «I'll be the best I’ve been»
I’m a plough and you’re a furrow; I’m a fox and you’re a burrow
I’m a weed and you are the road; you were a man (You were a man)
And I’m alone…
And I scorched his fingers in her face; grubby mitts, saving grace
Coughed a liver, winked to die-- Why don’t you lie?
Several gloves and half-cocked eyes bring nature to their deviled lives
Winsome misses wanting lads aging in their passing fads
Leave a trail of dusted boots and choose a toe cap then
Kiss me here or kick me there and lovers might be friends
I’m a plough and you’re a furrow; I’m a fox and you’re a burrow
I’m a weed and you are the road; you were a man (You were a man)
And I’m alone…