Posted, stamped and tasted Letter from me to me My direct plea Fruitless and out of season Came back to me, unopened Untasted, untried and not tested I began to see Fullfill needs silently Inside we bleed
Right, write right to the country And tell them I'm sorry I left My man and 48 kids on the bridge of starvation Without any gingerbread Right, I write right to the country And tell them I'm sorry I left My man and 48 kids on the bridge of starvation Without any gingerbread
Give me little leave for the things I need Give me little love Give me little peace Give me this and that
Like freaks we come together after midnight Abstract in our love Abstinent and out of reach I plead for release Kiss me please, kiss me please Reality like letting my head go Like bullet rains in the desert dry No high, won't change How low you go, how low you go
Turn my back, turn around again There it is, there it is again
Bad taste, privet to my tongue Visions that I have Become memories like echoes And that is real at least to me I got to find a leave for my tape machine Give me little leave for the things I need Messenger, metaphors Abstinent I reform My Pumas go like machine guns When I gotta go, gotta go
Give me little leave for the things I need Give me little love Give me little peace Give me this and that Turn my back, turn around again There it is, there it is again
Left, right, my left, my left, my right Left, I left, with my right I step With my left I leftTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
