We'll stay home and call this day our own, You're the brown eyed boy that I once called my own, You sit in the easy chair while I comb out my soft red hair, Later we can watch a candle burn.
I'll put on your favorite scratchy record, And draw the heavy curtain when dusk falls, Don't seem like you're in the mood for dancing now my dear, So I'll just comb my hair some more, Did you forget to lock the door?
Dreaming of the past and happy times that are now gone, And the brown eyed boy that I once called my own.
I'll put on your favorite scratchy record, And draw the heavy curtain when dusk falls, Don't seem like you're in the mood for dancing now my dear, So I'll just comb my hair some more, Did you forget to lock the door?
If I could just turn back the hands of time, And wash my own to free me of this pine, Never more for me the summer sun will shine, And neither for the boy I left behind.
And if your mother should come calling, So long from her son she had not heard, I can boast that you'll be true to me forever more, Now in my hands I hold your head, My fingers stained with crimson red.
Dreaming of the past and happy times that are now gone, And the brown eyed boy that I once called my own. And the brown eyed boy that I once called my own.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
