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Nail

de James Reyne

And so we wend our way to Big Smoke
Cat on a hot, tin Tennessee
In my town shoes and your golden slippers
And Hart Crane's guarantee
All these shuttered, little coastal towns
Full of stutterers and lispers
And dark sunglasses, wide-brimmed hats
And whispers, whispers

And I looked to the sky
And it looked like rain
These Towers of Babel / Babble
Are gonna come down again

On this American talk show
With these American talk show hosts ( x2 )

For want of a nail the shoe was gone
For want of a shoe the horse can't run
For want of a horse the rider's no more
For want of a rider we lost the saddle,
We lost the battle and then we lost the war

And I was never the man
That I used to be
Just the boy most likely
You ever did see

On this American talk show
With these American talk show hosts ( x2 )

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