Sundays Medicine текст песни, слова песни Medicine Sundays
Sundays - Medicine
lose my mind here any day now
don't be sad, we're only half way there
o no, that's what I call home
you remember the hills we slithered down
";I'm not going anywhere";
you lied
hell on my own
hell here on my own
and don't go imagining that time is medicine
mark those days & swallow your pills
proud of my wise head on young shoulders
too bad there was nothing there at all
hell on my own
hell here on my own
and it was such a really cold hand
I held as the wind sighed
";I'm not going & how could I lie?";
just be glad there's no way back there
I need another look at before
though heaven knows how I'd ever
make my way back there
Комментарии