Mo Troper – The Feast Of Fancy Lyrics

The Feast Of Fancy – Mo Troper Lyrics

How will you manage

With an empty seat?

Who will you take for granted

When you can’t have me?

The silver’s plastic

And the talk is cheap

Words are elastic

At the feast of fancy

Now that I’m under the gun

You pulled that yarn you spun

And sent me on a run

Down to the bottom wrung

Now that I’m under the gun

You pulled that yarn you spun

And sent me on a run

Down to the bottom wrung

Apprise the people

And I’ll bring the heat

We arrive equal

And leave tasting defeat

You set thе table

And I’ll keep the beat

Thе glasses are all half full

At the feast of fancy