I suppose love lives in a dustbin behind the garden wall You have to grovel on the ground and be pretty disgusting to find it at all And I suppose that it grows on you Standing there with no clothes on, and I suppose because there's beautiful girls in this town I'll stay here till I've chosen one. I suppose life's like a hunt, really: the hounds have fun until the fox gets bagged And not one girl in this town will ever fall in love with me: They'll get dragged.
Her heart speaks to me; says the room the room the room beneath her dress, and I suppose that it beats for me Like a hammering moon pulling tides through her chest Suppose she says that she owes me all that she owns and all that she is It seems to me I suppose that her heart's not enough and her love is a swizz.
So suppose love lives in a mansion how the hell do I get over the wall? And if my rope's not stretched the right tension I won't cross this grand canyon at all. And I suppose that it grows like a tumor, spreads like a rumor like the grass grows and inch every day And I suppose that before I even know it, the tide will start flowing and the drum beneath my jacket will say:
You know you need her everyday She is the moon and she showed me her face She is the house and she opened the gatesTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
