L’s Song David Gray

I love your nervous fingers
Won't you fumble all night long
Let the morning air sting us
To rise and stumble on
Down the crooked pavements
The wind rolls my thoughts like a leaf
The brittle bell chimes
And fortune smiles, with its broken teeth

And the many rivered land
Grateful for the rain
I'd be grateful for one morsel
Of your loving again

Summer, restless summer
Won't let sleeping dogs lie
Your barbed voice
Re-awakens time gone by
Hound's face, fine bowl
Harsh land, dry stone
Thunder's muttered promise
Impatient gull on the scented wind
Your gray eyes startling
Rain nearly upon us

And the many rivered land
Grateful for the rain
I'd be grateful for one morsel
Of your loving again