Toward the end of our first year in Las Vegas,
You looked up from your little corner
And I saw that your face was getting a little brighter.
And then you asked me,
"Is it really getting warmer
Or is it just me?"
And then you started mumbling
So what are you saying anyway?
I thought I heard bells ringing,
But then I remembered I no longer knew what bells sounded like.
I thought we'd strike up a conversation
Till bad luck cruised in
On his ten-speed bike.
I got real cold and I grabbed coat
And I saw that the ringing was coming from your throat.
What are you saying anyway?