The wind's been blowing 
Way too long 
And I'm starting to lose my mind 
And now the rain's started 
And I'm broken-hearted 
I'm running three hours behind 

I know I said that I'd be home 
In time for the evening news 
The world's been fired 
And I'm so tired 
I'm starting to live the blues 

Just pour my wine 
I'll be fine 
Give me time 
I'm coming home to you 

Another tree's past 
And it won't be the last 
But it's a quarter to three or four (?) 
I could hire a car 
But if they've gone too far 
I'm here until they open the door 

I keep my pain 
Way down deep 
Where no one else can see 
It feels so right 
But sometimes at night 
It's starting to eat at me 

Just pour my wine 
I'll be fine 
Give me time 
I'm coming home to you 

(bass solo) 

(spoken) 
Sometimes I feel like I'm in the middle of a really bad Andy Warhol story. When I'm just famous for being fifteen minutes late. I mean, that's on a good day. It also depends on how important the meeting, or the appointment - the rendezvous - whatever it is. How important it is directly relates to how late I'll be. Could be a couple of days, sometimes. Almost makes you totally believe that there's someone up there. Someone controlling things. Otherwise, why would these things happen? Like there's God, or gods, up there... just having a laugh. Having a laugh. Enjoying a glass of wine, and just having a laugh. Just having a laugh. 

Pour my wine 
I'll be fine 
Give me time 
I'm coming home to you 

Ah just pour my wine 
Yeah I'll be fine 
Just give me time 
I'm coming home to you 

I'm coming home 
I'm coming home to you 
I'm coming home to you 
I'm coming home 

I'm coming home... to you...