Courting Mary کے بول

The quiet before the storm is worse than the storm itself You crossed your legs on the front porch and let out a slow sigh You were watching the sun collapse into the blacken hills I was watching you through the sweat Burning in my eyes Burning in my eyes Where'd you put my water, Jack? Where'd you put my ice water? Why don't you find it and bring it back, I might let you walk me to the altar. Your little box of matches doesn't seem to be coming home But you still sway in that swing all day and stare As the picket fence keeps peeling And the gate gets overgrown Hoping there's a tornado Touching down somewhere Touching down somewhere Where'd you put my water, Jack? Where'd you put my ice water? Why don't you find it and bring it back, I might let you walk me to the altar. Where'd you put my water, Jack? Where'd you put my ice water? Why don't you find it and bring it back, I might let you walk me to the altar.