Tears are running down your breast
and your friends baby they treat you like a guest.
martedì 5 aprile 2011
domenica 3 aprile 2011
Waitin', watchin' the clock, it's four o'clock, it's got to stop
Tell him, take no more, she practices her speech
As he opens the door, she rolls over...
Pretends to sleep as he looks her over
She lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man...
She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man...
Can't find a better man.
Talkin' to herself, there's no one else who needs to know...
She tells herself, oh...
Memories back when she was bold and strong
And waiting for the world to come along...
Swears she knew it, now she swears he's gone
She lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man...
She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man...
She lies and says she still loves him, can't find a better man...
She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man...
Can't find a better man.
Yeah...
She loved him, yeah...she don't want to leave this way
She feeds him, yeah...that's why she'll be back again
Can't find a better man.
Tell him, take no more, she practices her speech
As he opens the door, she rolls over...
Pretends to sleep as he looks her over
She lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man...
She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man...
Can't find a better man.
Talkin' to herself, there's no one else who needs to know...
She tells herself, oh...
Memories back when she was bold and strong
And waiting for the world to come along...
Swears she knew it, now she swears he's gone
She lies and says she's in love with him, can't find a better man...
She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man...
She lies and says she still loves him, can't find a better man...
She dreams in color, she dreams in red, can't find a better man...
Can't find a better man.
Yeah...
She loved him, yeah...she don't want to leave this way
She feeds him, yeah...that's why she'll be back again
Can't find a better man.
La primavera in fin dei conti è una fregatura.
Tutti questi colori, tutti i profumi, le piante che rinascono dopo essere state congelate dall'inverno, gli insetti che svolazzano di fiore in fiore, ti fanno sentire come se anche tu potessi liberarti dalla pelle morta dei tuoi errori di valutazione, dalle scelte sbagliate, dalle situazioni complicate.
E invece no.
La natura riattiva il suo ciclo vitale e tu sei ancora fermo lì.
domenica 6 marzo 2011
venerdì 4 marzo 2011
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