Just this morning I read the last page of the book that you gave me when we were in Sydney. What did I do? I closed the covers and went underground to be alone in this city again. Find me a lonesome shore that's not my shower floor where I can rest my weary bones. And it'll be years until the day that I'll come back with things to say. I'll say that I'm not sorry I went away. four walls a bed a kitchen of honey and bread does not make a home for my head is in pieces the tension increases inside a skull that's so deep in the ground.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.