Richard Bryant Blankety Blank
Richard Bryant I sleep like a baby in a treetop when I'm high When I'm low I sleep six feet underground I wrap myself in sheetrock, lay my head upon an anvil So my bad dreams never dare to get me down I fall down like roadkill every time you never call But I rise again when I hear you speak my name Why should I wipe my glasses? I see you with my eyes closed Though it hurts to think you might not see it the same So I'm hittin' the hay with a blankety-blank I'm waiting for my mind to go blankety-blank I wish you were here I sleep with one eye open and the other closed up tight The better to see you try to figure this one out I hear you knock the front door. I spot you on the ceiling. I watch you hang back in a long winedark shadow of doubt I'm hittin' the hay with a blankety-blank I'm waiting for my mind to go blankety-blank I wish you were here
