Youve got nowhere to go but up
To where youll dine with foreign kings
You cant forget about our tryst
And all those other fleeting things
And will they train you like a dog
And will they walk you down my streets
The wind will whistle our old songs
The ones Ill always keep
Youve got nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Ive got a bone to pick with you
About the argument we had
The day you got into that cab
And said my world is in your past
Youve got nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
There must be something wrong with me
My mind is just a sickly little alibi
And why am I surprised
Youre giving up on me, goodbye
The words youre wielding like a knife
The words youre wielding like a knife
The words youre wielding like a knife
Youve got nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
Nowhere to go, whoa, whoa
The words youre wielding like a knife, whoa, whoa
The words youre wielding like a knife, whoa, whoa
The words youre wielding like a knife, whoa, whoa
The words youre wielding like a knife, whoa, whoa
Artist: Cymande
Artist: George Shearing
Artist: Wallace Roney
Artist: Fancy