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I don't believe in angels |
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Well, at least not in yours |
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But I believe in the sensation |
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of holding you close |
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And I don't believe in exile |
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at least not how you practise it |
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but I'm willing to regret |
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all the travels I made |
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all the triumphs in my book |
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'cause I'm afraid |
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that they took me away from you |
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-So, don't be upset |
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'cause your bottleneck barbiturate |
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ain't helping you out |
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-It wasn't meant to be |
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a hole in the ground |
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Don't make me wait |
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'cause your bottleneck barbiturate |
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is letting you down |
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'cause I know other ways |
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of getting around |
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the lonely hour |
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I'm the one who used to tell you |
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that something is for free |
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And, that being lonely |
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doesn't have to be a drag |
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(What a gag...) |
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Now if I was to envy you |
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you know it wouldn't be for real |
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just a way to steal - or... |
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Can it be so |
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that we've made it our own? |
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-I don't know |
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but these walls seems to tell me |
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it ain't so |
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-So don't be upset |
|
'cause your bottleneck barbiturate |
|
ain't helping you out |
|
-It wasn't meant to be |
|
a hole in the ground |
|
Don't make me wait |
|
'cause your bottleneck barbiturate |
|
is letting you down |
|
'cause I know better ways |
|
of getting around |
|
the lonely hour |
|
Don't make me wait |
|
Don't make me wait |
|
Don't make me wait |
