the beautiful south
little blue
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 be	  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