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Альбом:
From My Hands (1995)
Three Flights Up
Well. we returned to that five room flat
Now it was empty and this the last time
There were blinkin' pictures of how we'd sit and chat
Some of them were shattered others scattered on my mind
It was always three flights up
Cathedral bells kept time
In the winter. chattering cold
While the building shook like ragweed in the wind
Stories from the heat pipes, we were told
Now they only leave me with a half enchanted grin
It was always three flights up
Cathedral bells kept time
Bicycles squeeze down alleyways into view
And towels warmed on oven doors to not freeze
It was the only thing to do
I wonder if we took to the fair warning
I can see it in the flowers dying on the window sill
I know we have to be out by tomorrow morning
But am I going against my will
Cathedral bells kept time
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maluca
додано 3 Вер 2025 - 19:06
Авторське право:
Writer(s): Frank Christian
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