|
I paint my lips pillarbox red |
|
It reminds me of the country |
|
Where I was born and bred |
|
Roots lie deeper than bones |
|
So back in time I go |
|
Through the tobacco smoke veil |
|
On the perfumed trail |
|
Where only childhood knows |
|
I lift my face |
|
To feel the rain |
|
Everything's changed |
|
Though it seems the same |
|
The shallow hugs |
|
The muted rage |
|
The weeping skies |
|
The shadowless days |
|
I love and I hate this place |
|
I ran away but I couldn't escape |
|
I paint my lips pillarbox red |
|
It reminds me of the country |
|
Where I was born and bred |
|
Roots lie deeper than bones |
|
So back in time I go |
|
Through the saloon bar doors |
|
Onto the chewing gum floors |
|
Where only childhood knows |
|
I lift my face |
|
To feel the rain |
|
Everything's changed |
|
Though it seems the same |
|
The sarcasm |
|
The bitter remarks |
|
That pierce the chest |
|
And wound the heart |
|
The shallow hugs |
|
The muted rage |
|
The weeping skies |
|
The shadowless days |
|
I love and I hate this place |
|
I ran away but I couldn't escape |
|
I paint my lips pillarbox red |
|
It reminds me of the country |
|
Where I was born and bred |
|
I paint my lips pillarbox red |
|
It reminds me of the country |
|
Where I was born and bred |
