Floorboard Blues — текст песни (cowboy junkies)

Look under his floorboards, mama,

I dont trust his silly grin

Hes got a beat-up rambler, nebraska plates,

And I aint getting in

I dont like the way his pinky ring

Picks up the dashboard light

Or his short little piggy fingers

Or the way his belt is cinched too tight



Check under his floorboards, mama,

I dont like his suggestive tone

The way his words drip from his mouth

As he asks can I take you home?

I dont care how many miles I got,

I think Id rather walk them alone

Than to sit in the back seat

As his eyes in the mirror

Reduce me to flesh and bone



Check under his floorboards, mama,

cause that razors not just a threat to me

Hell be slicing tiny crescents from your heart,

Without laying a sweaty palm to your cheek

Dont accuse me of running scared,

Listen to what Im saying

Its a fucked up ol world, but this ol girl

Well, she aint giving in