A Knock Upon The Door Lyrics
| Song | A Knock Upon The Door |
| Artist | Cass McCombs |
| Album | WIT'S END |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| “Hell!” sang the young minstrel, “hang tightly to your purses! | |
| Bitter winter on this blonde city and utter curses!” | |
| The song ended and the onlookers did roar | |
| Were I sincere, you bet I’d hear | |
| A knock upon the door | |
| “Hell!” went the Muse, intent, “you take me for granted! | |
| You’ve made me a harlot, if I may be candid!” | |
| The label dropped her, not before they shopped her in a bidding war | |
| Were I sincere, you bet I’d hear | |
| A knock upon the door | |
| The tired minstrel, leaving town, heard the Muse’s weeping | |
| He turned up the Elvis tape in his grey car, creeping | |
| “Sex and Death! Was I not the breadth among the two?” she poured | |
| “Were you sincere, I bet you’d hear | |
| my knock upon your door!” | |
| He said, “Dear Muse, Come here! Need a lift somewhere? | |
| You’ve got the wrong man, I was only kidding back there. | |
| I worship you! Forgive me for behaving like such a boor. | |
| I am sincere: I hope to hear | |
| Your knock upon my door!” | |
| “The Causeless Cause of Flawless Flaws has video on you.” She scorned. | |
| “Evidence, in none defense, should I have you burned, deformed. | |
| Hey! Hell is real and so will be your sores! | |
| Heck with sincere, hark, I hear | |
| A knock upon the door.” | |
| The derisive Muse said, “your therapy isn’t working, is it?” | |
| Memphis huckster-Hitler-hustler! Aren’t you a Clear yet? | |
| Always brooding the meaning of sex, pretending to be poor. | |
| Klock is here! Hark, I hear | |
| A knock upon the door.” | |
| His head throbbed under her voice, ubiquitous and soft | |
| Beads streamed from his hair, soaking his black t-shirt’s cloth | |
| gut feeling was to leave her words on the cutting-room floor | |
| He thought, “If I stay here, I’ll never hear | |
| That knock upon the door” | |
| Muse, exhausted, peered the accosted, her hand on her abdomen | |
| A human voice to her songs, she could not condemn | |
| Because of a communion they had had of yore | |
| The blessed day is near, soon they’ll hear | |
| A knock upon the door |
| " Hell!" sang the young minstrel, " hang tightly to your purses! | |
| Bitter winter on this blonde city and utter curses!" | |
| The song ended and the onlookers did roar | |
| Were I sincere, you bet I' d hear | |
| A knock upon the door | |
| " Hell!" went the Muse, intent, " you take me for granted! | |
| You' ve made me a harlot, if I may be candid!" | |
| The label dropped her, not before they shopped her in a bidding war | |
| Were I sincere, you bet I' d hear | |
| A knock upon the door | |
| The tired minstrel, leaving town, heard the Muse' s weeping | |
| He turned up the Elvis tape in his grey car, creeping | |
| " Sex and Death! Was I not the breadth among the two?" she poured | |
| " Were you sincere, I bet you' d hear | |
| my knock upon your door!" | |
| He said, " Dear Muse, Come here! Need a lift somewhere? | |
| You' ve got the wrong man, I was only kidding back there. | |
| I worship you! Forgive me for behaving like such a boor. | |
| I am sincere: I hope to hear | |
| Your knock upon my door!" | |
| " The Causeless Cause of Flawless Flaws has video on you." She scorned. | |
| " Evidence, in none defense, should I have you burned, deformed. | |
| Hey! Hell is real and so will be your sores! | |
| Heck with sincere, hark, I hear | |
| A knock upon the door." | |
| The derisive Muse said, " your therapy isn' t working, is it?" | |
| Memphis hucksterHitlerhustler! Aren' t you a Clear yet? | |
| Always brooding the meaning of sex, pretending to be poor. | |
| Klock is here! Hark, I hear | |
| A knock upon the door." | |
| His head throbbed under her voice, ubiquitous and soft | |
| Beads streamed from his hair, soaking his black tshirt' s cloth | |
| gut feeling was to leave her words on the cuttingroom floor | |
| He thought, " If I stay here, I' ll never hear | |
| That knock upon the door" | |
| Muse, exhausted, peered the accosted, her hand on her abdomen | |
| A human voice to her songs, she could not condemn | |
| Because of a communion they had had of yore | |
| The blessed day is near, soon they' ll hear | |
| A knock upon the door |
| " Hell!" sang the young minstrel, " hang tightly to your purses! | |
| Bitter winter on this blonde city and utter curses!" | |
| The song ended and the onlookers did roar | |
| Were I sincere, you bet I' d hear | |
| A knock upon the door | |
| " Hell!" went the Muse, intent, " you take me for granted! | |
| You' ve made me a harlot, if I may be candid!" | |
| The label dropped her, not before they shopped her in a bidding war | |
| Were I sincere, you bet I' d hear | |
| A knock upon the door | |
| The tired minstrel, leaving town, heard the Muse' s weeping | |
| He turned up the Elvis tape in his grey car, creeping | |
| " Sex and Death! Was I not the breadth among the two?" she poured | |
| " Were you sincere, I bet you' d hear | |
| my knock upon your door!" | |
| He said, " Dear Muse, Come here! Need a lift somewhere? | |
| You' ve got the wrong man, I was only kidding back there. | |
| I worship you! Forgive me for behaving like such a boor. | |
| I am sincere: I hope to hear | |
| Your knock upon my door!" | |
| " The Causeless Cause of Flawless Flaws has video on you." She scorned. | |
| " Evidence, in none defense, should I have you burned, deformed. | |
| Hey! Hell is real and so will be your sores! | |
| Heck with sincere, hark, I hear | |
| A knock upon the door." | |
| The derisive Muse said, " your therapy isn' t working, is it?" | |
| Memphis hucksterHitlerhustler! Aren' t you a Clear yet? | |
| Always brooding the meaning of sex, pretending to be poor. | |
| Klock is here! Hark, I hear | |
| A knock upon the door." | |
| His head throbbed under her voice, ubiquitous and soft | |
| Beads streamed from his hair, soaking his black tshirt' s cloth | |
| gut feeling was to leave her words on the cuttingroom floor | |
| He thought, " If I stay here, I' ll never hear | |
| That knock upon the door" | |
| Muse, exhausted, peered the accosted, her hand on her abdomen | |
| A human voice to her songs, she could not condemn | |
| Because of a communion they had had of yore | |
| The blessed day is near, soon they' ll hear | |
| A knock upon the door |
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