When I walk the streets all my eyes can see Are colors and beautiful faces They don't speak a word They I remember All of your beautiful places I don't want to call you on the telephone I want skin and bones
Ooo Your eyes are blue Often they're red too They see things differently Come sit at the table Whiskey if you're able Come now, talk to me I don't want to call you on the telephone Show me to your home Ooo Easily I get caught in the chance and rot New york city breeds Some days I can't stand lonely empty hands Some days it's what I need Tonight I won't call you on the telephone It's best that I'm alone Oo oo oo
When I walk the halls of your mind so tall there's no need to escape When I ride the stream of your flesh, so green I cannot make a mistake How I want to destroy this telephone Get back to real, get back to your skin and bonesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
