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Song For a Snowy Sunday NightCopyright © 2007 Ken Ficara
Ken Ficara: Vocals, guitar
Live demo recording
The bartender listens and she gives advice for free
I feel like I'm in a bad country song
I've got a whiskey in front of me, a love affair behind me
And over my head all the things that I've done wrong
How did it come to this?
Come on get serious
I'm saying to myself
There was a woman who cared for me, but we didn't care enough
We couldn't talk to each other whenever it got rough
But the bartender don't ask for much and she's got a lovely smile
So I order another drink and sit and talk to her awhile
But she hardly knows me
I don't need her pity
Gotta get hold of myself
And she lights up the fire as the snow begins to fall
People come in from the cold and she's glad to see them all
They laugh and order drinks and brush the snow out of their hair
And I'm sitting in the corner wondering what I'm doing there
She's serving hot chocolate, spiked with Haitian rum
She comes down to where I'm sitting, just to bring me some
I thank her and she smiles and she starts to touch my hand
But someone needs a refill and she's on the run again
I can sit here in my corner, or face the cold alone
Avoiding hard decisions is what left me on my own
So I leave my money on the bar and I get up to go
"Don't you have a hat" she asks as I head into the snow
I gotta be on my way
It won't get better this way
Gotta live with myself
The snow sifts through the subway grates, the platform's edged in white
At home I watch the snowflakes dancing in the streetlights
The road outside is quiet, there's not a single car
Reflected moonlight shines on the top of my guitar
Gotta pick it up and play
It's gonna get better this way
Gonna sing for myself
And the snow is coming down
The guitar is the only sound...