Blondie
Saturday our way
Sneak back to your place
Taxi, backseat
Bubble-gum and whisky
Green eyes at midnight
A burning gaslight
Feverish, Gravity
Bittersweet Symphony
I promised I wouldn't use your name
But Juliette, you promised a lot more
And that meant nothing
Nothing, nothing, nothing
Next day, café
Tourists on holiday
You saw the end dead ahead
In signs I misread
So thank you for last night
Memories that taste like
Cigarettes and Jameson
Coffee and Cinnamon
I promised I wouldn't use your name
But Juliette, you promised a lot more
And that meant nothing
Nothing, nothing, nothing
Meet me in the library
Where we will find ourselves surrounded by so many words
I ought to steal some
To rewrite our history
Instead I translate it into verse
And with my luck, you'll never hear one
Remember the restaurant where we met?
The new sheets on your bed?
The shower? Hallway?
Never, always
Por el momento, a nadie le gusta este artículo
Comments
Hey! You're in luck, no one has commented on this article yet. Be the first one and leave your comment.
You need to be registered to leave comments.
Log in with your user account and enjoy all the benefits.
Create your account ó Sign in / Log in