Pillows and Prine - Bombadil

The laundry pile’s growing

And we haven’t swept the floor

She’s playing the same song on the radio

That she did before

She mutters something softly

And I know she’s almost done

So I head out the back door

Like a bullet from a gun

I see one way and you see another

Picking a fight that put a cowboy under

We don’t always seem to get it right

That’s why we put space between our pillows

At night

She always wears her sunglasses

Stays home most the time

Keeps the old grandfather clock

Wound and running fine

She has three French bulldogs

They definitely aren’t mine

When I step on their shit on the carpet

I wonder if it’s a sign

I see one way and you see another

Picking a fight that put a cowboy under

We don’t always seem to get it right

That’s why we put space between our pillows

At night

I know how to make her cry

Like a movie at its peak

I know how to make her crack

In my sleep

I swear she’s out to get me

She sets her traps at dawn

Walking on eggshells lightly

From an omelet that tasted wrong

I see one way

You see another way

We don’t always seem to get it right

I see one way and you see another

Picking a fight that put a cowboy under

We don’t always seem to get it right

That’s why we put space

That’s why we put space

That’s why put space

Between our pillows at night