Rush hour came crawling out of the best laid plans of noon
The vodka in the fridge at home sang with a haunting tune
But I haven’t heard a song I love in seven weeks or more
I wondered if that little bird won’t land here no more
You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June
I’ve gone three miles in second gear and now I’m down to first
Bring me a little water Sylvie, I’m dying here of thirst
How can I tear the bottom out of these ass-drag blues?
If I cannot hack it here can I go back to paying dues?
You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June
Well leave me here for dead is the song of my sigh
As I pull off at Queensland beach and let the traffic by
A southern breeze sings me home I wade in a western tune
Well the sea may rake my sorrow back but it come crashing back too soon
You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June
You can’t count tears in the ocean in the dying days of June