She'll be gone soon You can have me for yourself She'll be gone soon You can have me for yourself But do give Just give me today Or you will just scare
So we meet again after several years Several years of separation Moving on, moving around Till* we spend this time chasing the other's tail Ohohohoh,
The telegraph gave us hope Before was the silence and the panic it brought The sky was the blankest sheet We drew lines upon it So our thoughts could
Crossroads and given the option To pass and look back at goals I've missed Rainbows of burning bridges If you squint a little more it looks the same
Hey baby, Mrs. Cold Acting so tough, didn't know you had it in you so be hurt at all You waited too long You should've hook me, before I put my raincoat
Feeling the comfort of eyes is your sole intention We all want to be understood unconditionally But you have to realize that a viewer needs distance And
Beauty memories of all the places we captured without camera we've seen the pyramids we've seen the Louvre we've seen Orion upside down the total
He won't touch you anymore, Staying at his side. Half indifferent, half afraid, It will only make you cry. What is given can't be returned. The cards
We take what's dead And breathe life in And move like knives Through scars on land Still untouched No stain of hands Caramelized In a tilted light No
"Why, why so quiet? Oh my mysterious country singer?" she asked. My life, it's a riot I'm climbing barricades In empty streets at night. When I
I walked around for hours, two ten pence pieces in my hand I was alone and freezing, still trying hard to understand you I left the others knowing I
Riding on this know-how never been here before peculiarly entrusted, possibly that's all is history recorded? does someone have a tape? surely, I'
All I do is sleep all day, and think of you a memory of the cushion life I'm clinging to the image of a mutual one, our haven the sombre chords of
Through the alleyways to cool off in the shadows then into the street following the water there's a bearded man paddling in his canoe looks as if he has
I'd rather dance with you than talk with you so why don't we just move into the other room there's space for us to shake, and hey, I like this tune
Summerchild that sits by the water weaving sunlight threads in his hands the golden river that day a shelter a stream where he could make pebbles dance
When past sometimes takes you with soft hands forcelessly pulls you to your chair hides you away from these half days sunless at the end of the year
Without giving anything away, I can say it's by the sea it's a house that used to be the home of a friend of mine without giving anything away, you'll
