Gone off in the pitch-blac His bird dogs in their wire cage, are barking at the moon You turn the covers back, and hope the dawn don''t come too soon Draw the shades to keep your dark eyes From the glare of the vapor light But the sheets are cool and empty, and you won''t sleep tonight With a half moon rising, and a warm gusty breeze Blowing from the southwest, whispering in the trees Chorus Break The asphalt ''neath the tires, makes a hollow whining sound And it stretches on forever throug (allcountrytabs.com)