Songs should be sung in romantic language
But I, I can’t
You deserve the love of a man that is patient
But I, I’m not
Yes I, baby I’m not
I am a few on furlough on life
Grasping at straws only to lose grasp at night
You are the songbird who sings through her flight
On the winds of your heart through a grey barren sky
You are the not the cause of my melancholy
But I am
Took me some time to get where I am
And now she’s calling me back
She’s calling me back
I am a few on furlough on life
Grasping at straws only to lose grasp at night
You are the songbird who sings through her flight
On the winds of your heart through a grey barren sky
Time may slip away
I may become just another face
But I’ll still remember that beautiful day
When you said hello
And everything, everything changed
Things change
Day to day
But she remains the same
When she’s lost from my mind
She calls my name
She’s satan in a Sunday dress
And she knows I can’t resist
Those lips don’t align
With those treacherous eyes
She’s satan in a Sunday dress
And she knows I can’t resist
She’s satan in a Sunday dress
And she knows I can’t resist
