I, I'm thinking it's a sign That the freckles in our eyes Are mirror images, and when we kiss They're perfectly aligned I have to speculate That God
Smeared black ink, your palms are sweaty And I'm barely listening to last demands I'm staring at the asphalt wondering What's buried underneath Where
I'll write you a song and it won't be hard to sing It will be a natural anthem, familiar it may seem It will rally all the workers on strike for better
I was waiting for a cross-town train In the London underground when it struck me That I've been waiting since birth to find a love That would look and
This place is a prison And these people aren't your friends Inhaling thrills through 20 dollar bills And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
I take a breath and pull the air in 'Til there's nothing left I'm feeling green like Teenage lovers between the sheets Ba, ba ba ba, ba, ba ba ba Ba,
to you You won't have to strain to look into my eyes I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat with the collar up so you won
I've got a cupboard with cans of food Filtered water and pictures of you And I'm not coming out until this is all over And I'm looking through the glass
Will someone please call a surgeon Who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart That you're deserting for better company I can't accept that it
Last week I had the strangest dream Where everything was exactly how it seemed Where there was never any mystery on who shot John F. Kennedy It was just
: Smeared black ink... your palms are sweaty And I'm barely listening to last demands I'm staring at the asphalt wondering what's buried underneath
: Last week i had the strangest dream Where everything was exactly how it seemed Where there was never any mystery on who shot john f kennedy It was
: I take a breath and pull the air in 'til there's nothing left I'm feeling green like teenage lovers between the sheets Ba ba ba ba ... Knuckles clenched
: I was waiting for a cross-town train in the london underground When it struck me that I've been waiting since birth to find A love that would look
: I've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water, And pictures of you and i'm not coming out Until this is all over And i'm looking through the
: This place is a prison And these people aren't your friends Inhaling thrills through $20 bills And the tumblers are drained and then flooded again
: I'll write you a song and it won't be hard to sing It will be a natural anthem, familiar it will seem It will rally all the workers on strike for better
: Will someone please call a surgeon Who can crack my ribs and repair this broken heart That your're deserting for better company? I can't accept that
