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