From the Hamilton to the A3 She must have been about 17, going on 18 They used to undercharge her at the overpass Cigarettes taste best when they taste like daydreams But the days are long gone now But she still looks back Back to the first ever boy she loved Who didn't love her back
My Joan of Arc A martyr in my bed There's three kind words She never heard said
I was caravans, bands, cans and backseats She was more diazepam, trams, tans and spreadsheets Looking back then, we both laugh Funny how you never give a fuck when you're 20 But she was alone then And it still makes her mad How the boys used to lead her on Just to get in her pants
My Joan of Arc A martyr in my bed Her lonely heart Can find it hard to forgive and forget The love she once had Would run as soon as he read Those three kind words She never heard said
So from the anagrams to the flat keys Spend most of our time now counting back from 30 My old mate Terry just got discharged At her majesty's pleasure, he was never that cosy But these older days, we know now Though they're not all that They're some of the best ever days That I'll ever have
My Joan of Arc A martyr in my bed Her lonely heart Can find it hard to forgive and forget The love she once had Would run as soon as he read Those three kind words She never heard saidTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
