So many obvious questions have gone unasked
How can you
So we sit at this table with our hands in
Aim high, but shoot low
Our mission is to bring
I take a walk down to the shore
and I
Your shirts are pressed
Your words are planned
Your jeans
Your body aches from all the alcohol you drank
But
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There is just one
(do do do...)
Don't walk away from this
It's on your fingertips
Babe,
You wear too much make-up
It doesn't cover up a thing
Well
How did we get to this place?
In the beginning, things
Sitting in my carBut we don’t drive very farThe miles
[Originally by Bob Dylan]Go away from my window Leave at
I think i'm running out of sympathypromises you've madebut never
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