Son, there are mirrors here -- watch your performing little whales Or snip your harness off and take another walk around the bay The way the English say: "We only mustn't grumble in the end," A needle in your back, an arrow in your heart, you smile
Is your wax doll still crying in the fire?
It cramps your handwriting and dulls what little style you have You cast your mind back to professionals like Alan Breeze Who sees the windows freeze and hands around the keys "Unlock yourself," he says, but no one ever does Except for Jacob Lurch, and Mr. Moose and Dandy
Is your wax doll still crying in the fire? Is your wax doll still crying in the fire?
Son, there are breakers here -- your living room it glides across the sea Or high above the waves, the wrinkled little waves you cannot smooth We travel everywhere, we're gonna take the suburbs to the stars If I was man enough, I'd come on your stump If I was man enough, I'd come on your stump But don't you know, this is the Home Counties?
Is your wax doll still crying in the fire? Is your wax doll still crying in the fire? Is your wax doll still crying in the fire?
What you say, what you do What you say, what you say, what you say What you do, what you do, what you do Ahh
Do you think that anybody wants to be your friend Now that they know?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
