Eleanor Mcevoy
Territory Of Poets

He's tired of getting up
Tired of life
Tired of working at the same old job
And tired of his wife
Overcome with a desire
To come of age
Better step aside for Johnny
'Cause he's come to take the stage
Take the stage

He's in the territory of poets
Movin' slow
He's in the territory of moving
But not knowing which way to go
He hides the ring that's on his finger
Made of gold
He's in the territory of poets
And he's doing what he's told
What he's told

Johnny's looking 'round the bar
For a dance
Once he sets his eye on Sally
She doesn't stand a chance
Though the lines that he's rehearsed
Pass her by
When he asks her for a date
She says, Friday would be fine
How 'bout nine?

He's in the territory of poets
Movin' slow
He's in the territory of moving
But not knowing which way to go
He hides the ring that's on his finger
Made of gold
He's in the territory of poets
And he's doing what he's told
What he's told

Sally's putting on her dress
Half past eight
Johnny takes a little line of something
Just to keep him straight
Through her shadow and her blush
She shines through
She says her powder makes her feel much better
He says his does too
His does too

He's in the territory of poets
Movin' slow
He's in the territory of moving
But not knowing which way to go
He hides the ring that's on his finger
Made of gold
He's in the territory of poets
And he's doing what he's told
What he's told


Mirror lyrics:

What he's told
And he's doing what he's told
He's in the territory of poets
Made of gold
He hides the ring that's on his finger
But not knowing which way to go
He's in the territory of moving
Movin' slow
He's in the territory of poets

His does too
He says his does too
She says her powder makes her feel much better
She shines through
Through her shadow and her blush
Just to keep him straight
Johnny takes a little line of something
Half past eight
Sally's putting on her dress

What he's told
And he's doing what he's told
He's in the territory of poets
Made of gold
He hides the ring that's on his finger
But not knowing which way to go
He's in the territory of moving
Movin' slow
He's in the territory of poets

How 'bout nine?
She says, Friday would be fine
When he asks her for a date
Pass her by
Though the lines that he's rehearsed
She doesn't stand a chance
Once he sets his eye on Sally
For a dance
Johnny's looking 'round the bar

What he's told
And he's doing what he's told
He's in the territory of poets
Made of gold
He hides the ring that's on his finger
But not knowing which way to go
He's in the territory of moving
Movin' slow
He's in the territory of poets

Take the stage
'Cause he's come to take the stage
Better step aside for Johnny
To come of age
Overcome with a desire
And tired of his wife
Tired of working at the same old job
Tired of life
He's tired of getting up


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