In the tree-lined cities in forgotten fields Some are born too pretty, some are born too real Some to death-wish pity, while the selfish steal Some ground
So just hunch back plans to start to feel As the rise of man names his price to deal It's look Ma, no hands on the steering wheel Going round Goes round... Slows down
Some are early blooms, some are made to wait Some arrive too soon, some way too late Some think the moon can navigate Life round...Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
