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William Elliott Whitmore

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William Elliott Whitmore

Sorest of Eyes

You are a sight for the sorest of eyes
and these have never beheld
such beauty and grace In the look on your face
is a secret you just can't tell

Blow out those candles and crawl into bed
Hold me close and don't let go
The storm clouds are gatherin' all overhead
and the wind is starting to blow

I never felt better than in your two arms
and the moon never shone so bright
All my woes seem to fade away
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Darlin' you sure are a sight

Tea in the morning and whiskey at night
is such a hard cycle to break
but your company is just fine by me
Lovin' for lovin's sake

You shoot me that look from them big doe eyes
like a slug from a forty-four
It's as easy as that for you to lay me out flat
that's one thing that's always for sure