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When I come home, you won't be there any more |
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When I come home, you won't be there any more |
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And you will tear off your clothes and kiss the floor |
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When I come home, home, home |
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When I see land, you will conjure up a storm |
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When I see land, you will conjure up a storm |
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And I will tie your hand to the highest mast |
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When I see land, land, land |
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And we will hustle, hustle, hustle to be free |
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Free from all the happy thoughts and smiles across the sea |
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In favour of the mean, mean moves |
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And back doors to the heart from where we always, always fall apart |
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And you will slide on the back of my bike |
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And you will slide on the back seat of my bike |
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And I will ride you home drunken in the rain |
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And you will win again and again |
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Now it's your turn you will tie me to the tree |
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Now it's your turn you will tie me to the tree |
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And you will sing and sing forever you and me |
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But in the dark I wonder what you see |
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And we will hustle, hustle, hustle to be free |
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Free from all the happy thoughts and smiles across the sea |
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In favour of the mean, mean moves |
|
And back doors to the heart from where we always, always fall apart |
|
And we will hustle, hustle, hustle to be free |
|
Free from all the happy thoughts and smiles across the sea |
|
In favour of the mean, mean moves |
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And back doors to the heart from where we always, always fall apart |
