Morning comes to a stuttering halt, Cool breezes blow, it's somebody's fault As summer heat tries to burn through and I look over to warn you that something's happening. Morning glories climb the wall, and You speak in a slow drawl and I'm trying to piece together what you're saying But the birds are screeching and the hounds are baying I don't remember there being any hounds around here Move back and we clink our glasses, Raise a drink to our thirsty mouths, Thick as molassas, Ice cold vodka eases in as the low pressure system brings the breezes in And they chasser and piroutte above ya The only thing that I know is that I love ya And I'm holding on.