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Beautiful South, The Blue Is The Colour Little Blue (heaton/rotheray) 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 b 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 |
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