I put 47 spices in the pasta and it still tastes like ashes in my mouth I hang my head and cry when I think of spaghetti bolognese that you've made for us both that summer night in Napoli if it ever gets so we're making our love Now I prowl the streets around your house like a beast in the night you're all that I'm thinking of
I stand outside your window pleading Won't you hear me, won't you see
RITORNA A ME I'm begging you come back to me RITORNA A ME I follow you, I'm watching you RITORNA A ME Come back to me or I will find 47 ways to make you mine
The taste of wine turns bitter on my tongue There were candles burning when we made love I see you lighting candles now as you feed the peasant whose dirty hands soiled the table cloth
I watched your swine drink to his fill Get rid of him or I swear I will
RITORNA A ME I'm begging you come back to me RITORNA A ME I follow you, I'm watching you RITORNA A ME I'm seeking you, thinking of 47 ways to make you payTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.