(heaton/rotheray)
you can't write a novel from a briefcase
you can write a poem from a trench
you can dream a dream from a to b
but you can't catch a bus from a bench
You don't back a horse called striding snail
you don't name your boat titanic ii
so why when i see your happy smiling face
do i always end up singing little blue
Little blue, how do you do
your smile looks like heaven
but your eyes hold a storm about to brew
little blue
how can a flower so pretty
be so laden down with dew
little blue
How can a flower so pretty
be so laden down with dew
little blue
You can't build a brewery on a cemetery
you can build a pub on a church
and people fall quicker than buildings do
you have to decide what comes first
You don't call a plane the flying roman
'cause the romans always walked and never flew
so why when i see your happy smiling face
do i always end up singing little blue
Little blue, how do you do
your smile looks like heaven
but your eyes hold a storm about to brew
little blue
how can a flower so pretty
be so laden down with dew
little blue
Well bukowski wrote a story from a barstool
and keats from the top of a hill
so i'm going to save my special song for you
from a grave where it's quiet and it's chill
'cause there's a queue of clouds assembled
on the horizon of your smile
when most think that you're holding back
i know you're holding bile
Little blue, how do you do
your smile looks like heaven
but your eyes hold a storm about to brew
little blue
how can a flower so pretty
be so laden down with dew
little blue
How can a flower so pretty
be so laden down with dew
little blue