Текст (слова) песни: Lucksmiths, The - Music To Hold Hands To
You can`t keep a secret But you keep a diary anyway And you get away with murder Because you`ve got a way with words Yeah, and I know where you keep it: Under where your underwear is meant to be But usually it`s all over the floor I can`t see the carpet anymore
If you arose by any other name You`d smell as sweet And you`d look just the same
I could never understand you Hating music to hold hands to Sometimes something you can dance to Is the last thing that you need Yeah, and squandering a Sunday On a 499-piece jigsaw puzzle Doesn`t trouble me one little bit One little bit!
I feel like going visiting this evening Across the rooftops of North Carlton While the suburb is asleep My friends live in renovators` dreams It`s as euphemistic as it seems
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