the morning comes to a stuttering halt the cool breeze that blows is somebody s fault the summer heat tries to burn through and i look over to warn you but something s happening the morning glories climb the wall and you speak in a slow drawl i m trying to piece together what you re saying but the birds are screeching the hounds are baying i don t remember there being any hounds around here we lean back and we clink our glasses raise the drinks to our thirsty mouths and thick as molasses ice cold vodka eases in as the low pressure system brings the breezes in and they sashay and pirouette above you the only thing i know is that i love you and i m holding on yeah