Cup on the Counter
[talking]
The cup on the counter leaves a circular stain
The rud from the tire is deep in the clay
The flat of the grass where a body was laid
And the contents of pockets are strewn on the table
Why try to lie to me?
I'm not a child, I know what I've seen
Why try to lie to me?
I'm not a child, I know what I've seen
The fray of the fabric, the edge of the chair
And the hard to reach places, the things you put there
Ashes on, cinders gone, after the flames
The rain on the road leaves a beautiful haze
Why try to lie to me?
I'm not a child, I know what I've seen
Why try to lie to me?
I'm not a child, I know what I've seen
[faint talking]