Cry Me Old Trouble

I was born, guilty as sin
To a mother guilty as hell
That'll teach us for sniffing the dirt
New hats for the old hurt
It started in a garden
It started in a bright lit hall
It started in a garden
And why would you wet the ground?

Cry me old trouble
I like the weight
Cry me old trouble
I like the weight
Me old trouble
I like the weight
Cry me old trouble
I like the weight

Ah-ah, ah-ah

I'm tied to something you read
Through the din of a photograph
Wrapped up in a second-hand quilt
Worn thin and passed around
It started in a garden
And why would you wet the ground?

Cry me old trouble
I like the weight
Cry me old trouble
I like the weight
Me old trouble
I like the weight
Cry me old trouble
I like the weight

Ah-ah, ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah

Outside the air is cool enough to make me sweat
Under a peacock moon
The spoon gets passed around
It started in a garden
It started in a bright lit hall
It started in a garden
And why would you wet the ground?