The times were goin' boom and boom and bust
My feet of clay, they've dried to dust
The red isn't the red we painted,
It's... just... rust
That signature thing that used to bring a following
I have trouble now, even remembering

So why did I kiss him so hard late last Friday night
And keep on letting him change all my plans
I'm either so sick in the head
I need to be bled dry to quit
Or I just really used to love him
I sure hope that's it

To keep in touch would do me whooping dutch
'Cause it isn't the rush of remembering, it's just lush
And that signature thing is only growing harrowing
I should have no trouble now to keep from following

So why did I kiss him so hard late last Friday night
And keep on letting him change all my plans
I'm either so sick in the head
I need to be bled dry to quit
Or I just really used to love him
I sure hope that's it

Sometimes
When I bust my feet of clay, they dried to dust
That red isn't the red we painted
It's... just... rust
That signature thing that used to bring a following
I have trouble now, even remembering

So why did I kiss him so hard late last Friday night
And keep on letting him change all my plans
I'm either so sick in the head
I need to be bled dry to quit
Or I just really used to love him
Or I just really used to love him
Or I just really used to love him
I sure hope that's it

Composição: Fiona Apple · Esse não é o compositor? Nos avise.
Enviada por Simone
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