Strange times in Casablanca When people pull down their shades And it's easy enough for us to look at each other And wonder why we were to blame Blame comes remorselessly transfixed Like the sound of slamming doors And doors have doors have doors have doors have doors Like companions have pets They sleep in each other's mattresses Like maggots in despair And bleed on each other's nests And they make a mess of each other's snares Strange times in Casablanca Strange times
They make some striking couples They make some frustrations of the call And only those that are satisfied by friendship would Would even pay attention to it all It comes like mail or telegrams Blam, blam, blam, blam, blam, blam Too raw at best blam blam blam Too raw at best, strange she fights
[?] something in the wrong address It may come expectant as a widow in heat As a widow in the searing heat And that contentment of depression That delivers most of the time But cannot help the styling in the horns Of the servant of the name of gargoyle, liar Broken prints, savage fingers Undertaken catamaran Broken fans, savage fingers Undertaken catamaran
Strange times in Casablanca We'll turned our back on it once before And we hear across the waters What the damage it will 'cause us once more And you can smash once more They can smash once more They'll smash once, once more I don't think anybody wants to smash anymoreTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
