If you don't believe me
If you don't like my plans
You mustn't tell me
I know your face like the back of my hand
We walk the city
I talk so you understand
So won't you tell me
I know this place like the back of my hand
My arms get cold in February air
Please don't lose hold of me out there
And I know you're near me
I know you understand
Say that you're with me
So you know my face like the back of your hand
My arms get cold in February air
Please don't lose hold of me out there
Out there
There, there, February air, air
And I know this place like the back of my hand
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Saturday, July 10, 2010
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