The Broken Ukulele

Tom Brosseau
Water in the whiskey held your hand
Underneath the faucet in the kitchen, it was cold
Do you hear the music playing Leonard Cohen
On the phonograph and it was sad sad?
Engine light is on in your car again
It won't turn off 'til you bring it in
There's money in the pockets, hanging in the closet
Of the jacket that you haven't worn out since last year
Here comes the city
Take away the leaves you raked onto the street all day
Everybody has a broken ukulele somewhere in the family
You can't find it how hard you look, you look