Got myself a mission I'm going to find heaven I made cray-paper wings I think they'll carry me a while
I left you a love poem The best I have written My favorite words Were the ones I couldn't spell
They say that I'm a lunatic They say that I am full of it I say that it's worth dreamin' Just for the dream of it
It's all about passion It's all about perception Don't call me on my cell phone 'Cause there ain't no reception
When I'm gone When I'm gone
I think I'm growing feathers But I'm not quite sure of it 'Cause I started getting dizzy About a Hundred feet up
I made friends with the clouds I made friends with the birds If you ask a goose a question He never shuts up
And honestly I miss you And I hope that you're missing me Cause I could use your lips on me And a little bit of dramamine
For the moment I can see Way better than I've ever seen Don't sell my stuff on eBay Cause I might need it back before I'm gone
Before I'm gone
I'm not the kind of man Who's into looking downwards I've drank my share of pity From the bartender's cup
So many people Wonderin' "What's the right direction?" As far as I'm concerned There's only one way up
And my fingers, they are blisters And my eyes, they are bullet holes But my hearts still beating Guess I'm pretty lucky
Pretty lucky Pretty lucky (When I'm gone) Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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