Print

My tongue is scaling the north face of your neckAnd we're glaring like warriorsBut I've a feeling you won't look at me that wayIn the morning.Because lately you seem less sure of this thingYou're like Bambi on ice,And there's something in the flash of your armsA certain longing.Kick the can I can see you nowBehind the temper and ire.Mr. Wolf knows what time it is,He says it's dinner time.I don't know what you're carrying,Or how your heart is wired,But there's a dangerous tickingI'll cut the red one...No, the blue one...I'll cut the red one, no, the blue one...Raking over the embers and what I come across?Raking over the embers and what I come across?SongtexteIs that you, combing your hair?But is that me, eating an egg?And are we there?Are we there?Like John Boy said...My tongue is scaling the north face of your neckAnd we're glaring like warriorsBut I've a feeling you won't look at me that wayBut I've a feeling you won't look at me that wayIn the morningIs this how it goes? These, the final throes? Aus Songtexte Mania