On the walk home in your dead of the night Decorations, while you're watching my eyes fall on collarbone Nape of neck, swaying hips, wrinkled dress I know I'm not the most beautiful in the whole wide world But maybe on this block in the off-season Seem to turn an eye Used to feel so good pressing on my pride
Why do I still have to feel things in between the cheap delights? In Heaven all the first kisses last much longer than a night
On the drive home, I pick meaningless fights Plеase provoke me, I want somе kind of rise I but you know not to trust a fright that appears on a Sunday night
Why do I still have to feel things in between the cheap delights? In Heaven all the vacations last longer than a few nights You can hold the stars until they burn right through your hands You can outrun the whole week but Sunday catches up again
