The Tragically Hip - Little Bones lyrics
[The Tragically Hip - Little Bones lyrics]
Better butter your cue finger up
It's the start of another new year
Better call the newspaper up
Two fifty for a high ball
And a buck and a half for a beer
Happy hour, happy hour happy hour's here
The long days of Shockley are gone
So is football Kennedy style
Famous last words taken all wrong
Wind up on the very same pile
Two fifty for a decade
And a buck and a half for a year
Happy hour, happy hour happy hour's here
I can cry, beg and whine
To every rebel I find just to give me a line
I could use to describe
They'd say, "Baby, eat this chicken slow
It's full of all them little bones"
"Baby, eat this chicken slow
It's full of all them little bones"
So regal and decadent here
Coffin cheaters dance on their graves
Music all it's delicate fear
Is the only thing that don't change
Two fifty for an eyeball
And a buck and a half for an ear
Happy hour, happy hour happy hour's here
Well, nothing's dead down here
It's just a little tired
Nothing is dead down here
It's just a little tired
Nothing's dead down here
It's just a little tired
Nothing is dead down here
It's just a little tired
"Baby, eat this chicken slow
It's full of all them little bones"
"Baby, eat this chicken slow
It's full of all them little bones"
Little bones full of all them little bones
Little bones