Maybe we are the damaged ones
endless need, like a burning
Leaving on a Mayday, fine summer pain
in his heart on
Hard to believe how people move
Falling out of love with
No I don't remember
What brought us to this
What places we
No one I'll rather be with than you
Never say the
You are my everything
My head and my heart, my mind,
On the black Sunday afternoon sun is pale like the
Fine white sheet and candles, too
Beds in a straight row,
Off the road, somewhere I don't know
Soon with you, it's
Last summer was mad, remember the rain
I know people complained
