There ain’t no way of knowing, which way the wind is blowing
There ain’t no way of knowing, why my baby’s done up and gone
Said there ain’t no way of knowing, which way the wind is blowing
There ain’t no way of knowing, if my baby’s gonna come back home.
I telephoned my baby, plain hell gettin through
She won’t tell me anything, and all her friends won’t too
There ain’t no way of knowing, which way the wind is blowing
There ain’t no way of knowing, why my baby’s done up and gone
Said there ain’t no way of knowing, which way the wind is blowing
There ain’t no way of knowing, if my baby’s gonna come back home.
I’m standing out here in the yard, howling like Old Blue
Can’t you hear him barking, he’s awful lonesome too
I ain’t no private eye but I have picked up on some clues
I got a hunch she’s somewhere kick off her brand new walkin shoes
The second EP from Northern Irish singer-songwriter Bea Stewart runs from gentle folk to pillowy pop ballads, all perfectly executed. Bandcamp New & Notable Apr 15, 2024