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[ti:The Ground Beneath Your Feet] |
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[ar:Stephen Fretwell] |
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[al:Man On The Roof] |
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[offset:0] |
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The Ground Beneath Your Feet -Stephen Fretwell |
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Now that since I've found your face |
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In the most peculiar place |
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I don't feel I've anything to prove |
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To anyone else but you |
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And I think of her |
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And she thinks of him |
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And there's no escaping |
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This mess that we're in |
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But its like she's holding court |
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Down each street that we walk |
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And as she's drawing all that heat |
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I feel like the ground beneath her feet |
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Glance past a skyline of factories |
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Think of that life that was over to you |
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Time time well there's a funny thing |
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Written in black on the back of your hand |
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I still think of her |
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Do you think of him |
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And those pills and potions |
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Work the same time again |
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And you're counting all the numbers |
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In your waterproof purse |
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And it's not just a chance I have to stay and crawl along and past |
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The ground beneath your feet |
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Do you think of her |
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'Cause I think of him |
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And there's no escaping |
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This mess that we're in |
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And its like you're holding court |
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Down each street that we walk |
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And as you're drawing all that heat |
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I can't surmise or say |
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I wonder what price it is I'll pay |
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To sweep and move the sand |
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From the ground beneath your feet |
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Now that I've found your face |
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In the most peculiar place |
