- cifra
I had some brand new shoes
They were all red,
but they gave me the blues
And they?re running away,
they left me a letter
It?s just like you told me it?d be
It?s nothing, nothing, nothing
Nothing at all
We are all made of air
There?s stars in my eyes
and there?s sun in my hair
And I?m running away,
it makes me feel better
It?s just like you told me it?d be
It?s nothing, nothing, nothing
Nothing at all
When it comes down to this
I?m neither sorry,
nor cross, nor I?m fit
And I?m running away,
there?s smoke on my sweater
It?s just like you told me it?d be
It?s nothing, nothing, nothing
Nothing at all
