And there's
too many hands
Being
laid on her
Too
many eyes will never see
That
it's dragging her down
But
you won't hear a sound as
She
turns 'round
Her beauty
all aflight
It always
seems to turn the tide
At midnight
And for
her there is no rest
We are
doing what is best
For
our future
One of
these days she may not
Be so
good to you
One of
these days she might
Shake
you to the ground
But
her fire is still
Burning
And
her heart is still yearning
To be
found
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |