This is the day of the expanding man. That shape is my shade, there were I used to stand.
It seems like only yesterday I gazed through the glass, at ramblers, wild gamblers, that's all in the past.
You call me a fool, you say it's a crazy scheme. This ones for real, I already bought the dream.
So useless to ask me why. Throw a kiss and say good-bye.
I'll make it this time, I'm ready to cross that fine line.
Learn to work the saxophone, I play just what I feel.
Drink scotch whisky, all night long, and die
behind the wheel.
They got a name for the winners in the world.
I want a name when I lose.
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide, call me
Deacon Blues.
My back to the wall a victim of laughing chance.
This is for me the essence of true romance.
Sharing the things we know and love, with those
of my kind. Libations, sensations that stagger the mind.
I crawl like a viper though these suburban streets.
Make love to these women, languid and bitter sweet.
I'll rise when the sun goes down. Cover every
game in town.
A world of my own, I'll make it my home sweet
home.
Learn to work the saxophone, I play just what I feel.
Drink scotch whisky, all night long, and die
behind the wheel.
They got a name for the winners in the world.
I want a name when I lose.
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide, call me
Deacon Blues.
This is the night of the expanding man. I take one
last drag as I approach the stand.
I cried when I wrote this song, sue me if I
play to long.
This brother is free, I'll be what I want to
be.
I learn to work the saxophone, I play just what I
feel.
Drink scotch whisky, all night long, and die
behind the wheel.
They got a name for the winners in the world.
I want a name when I lose.
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide, call me
Deacon Blues.
