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