Carry my bag ten blocks,
It's August but it feels like the end of the year.
Going to dance with the Scottish broads,
The house band is playing like a jukebox,
Put a quarter in their jar.
You're looking like I should take you home,
Sing you to sleep in your wicker throne,
Left-handed angel, it is time to go.
You're either on, or you're off
You're either with me, or you're not.
I'm sorry I had to wake you up,
My bags are round, I have to catch the next bus.
Your Saturn eyes are tired and wild,
You're waving goodbye like a jovial child; steam in you hair, moon on your mind.
Go back to sleep in your cotton mine, wishful thoughts and a Polish sunrise,
Left-Handed Angel, goodbye.
You're either on, or you're off
You're either with me, or you're not.
It's August but it feels like the end of the year.
Going to dance with the Scottish broads,
The house band is playing like a jukebox,
Put a quarter in their jar.
You're looking like I should take you home,
Sing you to sleep in your wicker throne,
Left-handed angel, it is time to go.
You're either on, or you're off
You're either with me, or you're not.
I'm sorry I had to wake you up,
My bags are round, I have to catch the next bus.
Your Saturn eyes are tired and wild,
You're waving goodbye like a jovial child; steam in you hair, moon on your mind.
Go back to sleep in your cotton mine, wishful thoughts and a Polish sunrise,
Left-Handed Angel, goodbye.
You're either on, or you're off
You're either with me, or you're not.