(by Bruce R. Hornsby)



Well, I'm walking the floor

Hanging right round the door

Hoping you will come through

Wanting you to, sweat on my brow

I'm no saint

Nothing left but a bad excuse

The heat makes you do things

You might just not do

In your right mind

But you'll do what you do

You can be sure I'll be true



It's gonna take these arms of mine

All that they've to hold on to you

All that I know is these arms of mine

Are willing to try to keep hold of you

Gonna take a whole, whole, whole lot

A whole, whole, whole lot



Well, I'm walking the line

between wrong and right

I could go either way

But now, you don't want me to stay

You're so tired of waiting

Well, I'm no saint

Tried to have my cake and eat it, too

But nobody does what you do

Now another wins and I lose

I might deserve to

Now, you'll do what you do

Might be too late, but I'll tell you



It's gonna take these arms of mine

All that they've to hold on to you

All that I know is these arms of mine

Are willing to try to keep hold of you

Gonna hold, hold, hold on

Hold, hold, hold on