Mrs. Figg (arabella_doreen) wrote,
Mrs. Figg

Небольшой fling

Every kind of love
Or at least my kind of love
Must be an imaginary love to start with


You broke my heart Danny Boy
Not your fault Danny Boy
I was hanged at the doorstep, played like a two to a fourset
Had like poor Job in the bible by God

Day comes I wake,
I wake with a hard heartache
I go down to your place
We sit and chat,
chat about New York and trips to the bayou
My smile a trick,
tricking me and trying not to scare you


I ain't a soft and saccharine wannabe
Still I pray to God
This song will end happily
Tags: music, rufus wainwright
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