Paroles:
Book Of Love I Touch Roses

poses You still can't touch my roses I touch roses I touch roses I touch roses I touch roses If you think I'm magical 'Cause roses bloom with my touch

you in our lean hour) Milking your moustache? or grinding a flower? I'm sick of dour faces Staring at me from the T.V. Tower. I want roses in my garden

for the memory Of every touch a thrill, I've been through the mill I've lived a lot and learned a lot, you loved me not and still I miss you so much

, and on, and on I wouldn't front the scene if you payed me I'm just the way that the doctor made me, on, and on, and on, and on Love is the

make the answers hard to find I think I've covered everything but still there's something that I've missed I used to read you baby like a book but that

't enough You gotta do better than talk the big talk Or an occasional courtesy call I ain't seen roses and I ain't seen a thing Of what love's got to

I thought that food stamps were money So by ten I was the mess, got a men and then I had friend So now I'm snatching pocket books with Sean Wilkinson ?

cicadas are omnipotent sound. The kampong is dark and still. I am not what I thought I was. I am not what I seem. Most of all, I am not what I am. I

were you in our lean hour) Milking your moustache? Or grinding a flower? I'm sick of dour faces Staring at me from the T.V. Tower. I want roses in my