Lyrics Phoebe Killdeer and the Short Straws - He's Late

He’s late
I’m sitting in this bar
It’s eight p.m.
And I am drinking a cool rhum

I gaze across the room
A lot of crystal, a lot of wine
A lot of eyes running from a situation
While I wait on mine
While I wait on mine

He’s waiting by the station
The train’s late too
Well, I hope to catch you still
He’s so proud of you

He’s my brother Harry
He’s coming to see me
He’s got some bad news
He says from home

I said “tell me more
I want to hear it all”
He says “no, I got to see you
Can’t over the phone”

Too far to go
Time’s too short
Too far to go
Now that time’s too short

Who’s the pilot of this plane
Why does he have to dip now
When all is going so well

Sleep little child
While I ride the ocean
It won’t be long now
It won’t be long now