The Dancer from Dug In by Ben Balmer

The life of a dancer sets too soon on all the rest, but they have the fun that they were trying to get.
These skips and bounds we take, condensed by all the time we waste, just hold on to that Sunday afternoon.
If I walked away right now, might find that it's alright, can I find the laugh that I had used before,
My hands remember, the way she felt that night, and how I held her tight for so long.

But I can hardly stay, cause I don't know the way, just let me count the days til I go.

This China white I see it follows me around it seems to try and blind me from the things I love.
It's just like the taste of her, the sweet it keeps me wanting more but my lips are getting tired from all the lure.
Plies are getting old to me so while I take my rightful leave, a dip would do me good before I go,
But Sundays always seem to ask about why I kept my bags unpacked, but I never told her that it was for her.

But I can hardly stay, cause I don't know the way, just let me count the days til I go.

I wish you wore your gloves before you touched me now I'm wanting more, just give me back my Sunday afternoon.
I'm waiting please so save me now, I'll stay as long as you'll allow, just hold your word and I'll be good to you.

The life of a dancer sets too soon on all the rest, but they have the fun that they were trying to get.
These skips and bounds we take, condensed by all the time we waste, just hold on to that Sunday afternoon.

• Acoustic
• Americana
• Ann Arbor
• Austin Texas
• Folk
• Harmonica
• Rock
• Singer-songwriter
• blues
• harmonica
• steel guitar
• upright bass
• Asheville