Текст: John Hiatt. Ethylene.

I'm sitting on the toilet

With my sunglasses on

Wondering what you are up to

This hotel's got bathroom telephones

But I don't want to interrupt you

You might be painting your nails

With your hot curlers on

Each one a different color

Or listening to that Beach Boys sailing song

Sloop John B or another



CHORUS:

Ethylene, my Ethylene

My love for you is just obscene

My deer you dress

My fish you clean

But you are nowhere to be seen

My Ethylene



Well you could bag your limit

With a bow and arrow

Yeah you could skin a cougar in the dark

Well I thought we were walking

Down the straight and narrow

How'd we ever drift so far apart



I took my eighteen wheels

On this road to nowhere

And you disappeared right up in the hills

Like smoke up a chimney

Girl, I go there

Yeah in my dreams I visit you still



REPEAT CHORUS



Now some men will drive

To the edges of nothing

So they can take a peak at the great abyss

Some men avoid love

Like it was a plague or something

So they can leave the seat down

When they piss



I miss that crocheted thing

You kept on the Kleenex box

I miss my feet

On your cold linoleum floor

Sippin hot coffee

After makin love till daybreak

Well Ethylene a fool would ask for more



REPEAT CHORUS

REPEAT CHORUS



My Ethylene, my Ethylene, my Ethylene