Abigail

Composed by：Paolo Nutini

I don't have much luck these days

With far too much time

Lost a lot of my rhythm

In this bubble of mine

I would sure like to help you

I will give you my word

Then I'll fly away brother

Float away like a bird

You don't get much dignity

You don't get much sense of pride

When your mind get's too narrow

And your nose get's too wide

I breathe and I'm trying

In my cauldron tonight

Though a part of me's dying

There's a part come alive

Cause I had a dream last night

That you were beside me

Two kids in the garden

And your love behind me

Though today may taste bitter

Maybe tomorrow is gold

Lord I want to get happy

Before I get old

So I took out some paper

And I dug out a pen

Poured myself out some water

And I rinsed out the gin

I spoke of my dream that night

In the greatest detail

Of my beautiful children

And my sweet Abigail

But before she can find me

Before I can let her in

Before no sweet happy ending

Let the battle begin

Let the trumpets blow Valhalla

Let the soldier arise

And Lord let Abigail catch me

When I fall from the skies

Cause I had a dream last night

That you were beside me

Two kids in the garden

And all this behind me

Though today may taste bitter

Maybe tomorrow is gold

Lord I want to get happy

Before I get old

Lord I want to get happy

Before I get old

Lord I want to get happy

Before I get old