Our seperation seems forever; I’ll do it if it’s what you like.   Go take your bags to New York City, call me when your plane arrives.   I’ll feed the children, wash the dishes.   I’ll keep the house lookin nice.   Well don’t you worry, every[thing’s] gonna be alright.   It’s been snowin this October, turning grass into grain.   Do you see much past your hotel window, Friday nights with your gang?   I can only hope that things were different.   Darlin, do you feel the same every time you’re drinkin wine in the rain?   All you said you’ve seen is my face in a magazine,   My hair slicked back and clean- or so it seemed.   Now anyone can say that a man shouldn’t live this way, so take your pretty poison right into the grave.   We’ll never change.   I sold our house the 3rd December, we’re livin where our feet done land.   The babies screams, they might get to heaven, but they’re buried far neath the sand.   All I know’s my minds done thinking, my mouths doin’ what it can to keep the rhythm and put a nickel back in your hand.