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'Cause I went looking for a trace of something that you left |
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And when I saw dried paint and your scribbled initials |
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I acted like I could care less while my thumb press to the paper |
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I wanted to find your portrait, wanted to have it |
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Recalling a piercing voice in old dreams |
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And ghostly images of black trains |
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Now seeing every page is turned away |
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I wanted to own your portrait, wanted to have it |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
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You and your scribbled paper makes me shiver so |
