Elbow - Fly boy blue / Lunette
It's a lethal balletAir traffic congestionI'm having a babySecond thoughts, scotch, dinnerAnd someone's dancing on the boxA former MPAnd no one was watchingMy oldest friends are a serious habitFly boy blue, so bring your faces home,To my sweet trampolineAnd acres of crash site loveSomeone's dancing on the boxA former MPAnd no one was watchingMy oldest friends are a serious habitFly boy blue, so bring your faces homeTo my sweet trampolineAnd acres of crash site lovePresidential delaysSuppose I'm just luckyI'm having a shindigMe, Red Bob and the ivory hostAnd someone's shouting on the boxA chinless prefect gone GodzillaMy newest friends have forgotten my nameBut so have I, so far so good and homeYou and me trampoline and oceans of crash site loveWhat can be said of the cigarette smokesA prop for a joke or a mark on the clockIf I stopped would the bus ever comeWould the dawn ever kiss me, forgiven me, knowing what's doneWould the drivel make scribble make sense and then songWould the woodbines denied black another man's lungsPerverse as it may sound I sometimes believeThe tip to my lips just reminds me to breatheWhat can be said of the whiskey and wineRandom abandon or ballast for joyThat was scuppered with trust, little more than a boyAnd besides I'm in excellent companyI'm reaching the age when decisions are madeOn life and liver and I'm sure last ditchThat'll I'll ask for more timeBut mother forgive meI still want a bottle of good Irish whiskey and a bundle of smokes in my graveBut there isn't words yet for the comfort I getFrom the gentle lunette at the top of the nape of the neck that I wake toAnd where are the words for the leap in my chestWhen mischief appears either side of the scar on your noseMade by a rose thorn, so you claimBy a rose thorn
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Добавлена: | 7 января 2018 |