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Apartment 21 (Without Strings)
by
Bobbie Gentry
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Lyrics
Rain on my Sunday shoes Pick up the daily news Looks like tomorrow’s blues But it’s better than none Call on the telephone Knowin' that he's not home I'll put on the Rollin' Stones And I can have me some fun Start up a flight of stairs Stand up and comb your hair Try not to change things More than you can withstand Get into something new That's made for a year or two Pick up the pieces Where you think they might land Everyday goes Another day’s gone Hate to say so but I'm getting older Day by day Take off all your clothes Stand up and wipe your nosе Cry for your daddy Who died so long ago Jump on another plane Today it's all thе same You can catch me in Boston 'Cause that's how it goes I'm here in Apartment 21 Stop by and have some fun Say how ya doin', ya old son of a gun Look at a photograph Lord, don't it make you laugh For all these changes What have you done? La la la, la la la, la la la la Lla la la la, la la la, la la la la La la la, la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la, la la la la Sit down and write a song Wait till the days grow long And wait for the autumn wind To blow me away La la la, la la la, la la la la Lla la la la, la la la, la la la la La la la, la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la, la la la la La la la, la la la, la la la la Lla la la la, la la la, la la la la La la la, la la la, la la la la La la la la, la la la, la la la la
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