quarta-feira, dezembro 03, 2003
More Than Rain
It’s more than rain that falls on our parade tonight
It’s more than thunder
It’s more than thunder
And it’s more than a bad dream, now that I’m sober
Nothing but sad times
Nothing but sad times
None of our pockets, are lined with gold
Nobody’s caught the bouquet
And no dead presidents we can fold
Nothing is going our way
And it’s more than trouble, I’ve got myself into
It’s more than woe-begotten gray skies now
And it’s more than a bad dream, now that I’m sober
There’s no more dancing
There’s no more dancing
And it’s more than trouble, I’ve got myself into
Nothing but sad times
Nothing but sad times
None of our pockets, are lined with gold
Nobody’s caught the bouquet
And no dead presidents we can fold
Nothing is going our way
And it’s more than goodbye, I have to say to you
It’s more than woe-begotten gray skies now
And it’s more than goodbye, I have to say to you
It’s more than woe-begotten gray skies now
And it’s more than woe-begotten gray skies now
Tom Waits
posted by Anónimo on 10:56
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