|
|
||||||||||||||
| Items |
|---|
|
So I sit on the floor I might not feel pain even if I should. I think my heart must be made of clay, Even if I should. If I should. I write a new song every day. I just wish I was made of wood, 'Cause everyone said it would be broken some day. And now I've come to that fateful day, With my head in my hands. And don't tell me how to make it pay, |
|
|
|
Even if you should, even if you should. I'd keep the doors locked all the time. I'd have made damn sure. I just wish I was made of wood, You might not seem glad, The sweetest smile that ever did I swear to God And if you could have believed in me, Our hearts were warm, and glad with wine. Melt the pats in the butter dish, |
|
|
|
If I should. If I should. If you should. If you should. If I should. If I should. With my head in my hands. 'Cause everyone said it would be broken some day. I think my heart must be made of clay, So I sit on the floor If you should. Seems like I have come to that fateful day, With my head in my hands. |
|
|
