Man, this house is like the wood block
With a steel ax beside it;
Broomstick on my skinny little neck.
Jesus, I take it all back!

I go strolling in the train-tracked springtime,
Get pulled in by the daises.
Quiet valley or arduous highway?
O, lookit my pretty little house.

I’m talkin bout love, talkin bout love,
And which door holds more of that stuff.
I’m talkin bout love, talkin bout love.
Don’t blame me if I don’t show up, sho nuff, sho nuff, blame love!

Mockingbird sings cause he wants to;
He don’t need no echoing canyon.
Good Book salesman sells cause he’s s’pose to.
I’m trying to figure which I am.

From the embrace of a true love’s hammock,
I watch the valley swinging back and forth --
Back and forth, back and forth --
Ain’t that movement enough?

I’m talkin bout love, talkin bout love,
And which door holds more of that stuff.
I’m talkin bout love, talkin bout love.
Don’t blame me if I don’t show up, sho nuff, sho nuff, blame love!

Sometimes those night clouds are children, baby;
Sometimes those night clouds are tigers.
Bed pillow stands up, all feathered and furrowed,
Says, "What did you do today?"

In a country-view, highway-side motel,
Say, "Good love, get me that cold beer,
And come lookit these crows sleeping up on the power lines --
How y’think they balance like that? I swear!"

It's about, oh I'm talkin bout,
Which door hold more of that stuff
I’m talkin bout love, talkin bout love,
And which door holds more of that stuff.
I’m talkin bout love, talkin bout love.
Don’t blame me, no, no....


Lyrics submitted by Conchobar

Blame Love song meanings
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