last string I'll set you free there will be no more questions of strength I'll cut my boy playing indian I was trying to get to you Well now that's a
Preklad: Poison dobre. Letter Thing.
The last string I'll set you free there will be no more questions of strength I'll cut my boy playing indian I was trying to get to you Well now that'
know? That?s the same thing they said about me a long time ago And if they tell folks that you finally lost your nerve That?s the same thing they said
I had to rearrange their faces And give them all another name Right now I cannot read too well Don?t send me no more letters, no Not unless you mail
room There's too many rats in this cage of the world And the women know their place They sit home and write letters And when they visit once a year Well
put all those letters That you wrote to yourself but could not address? I'm a good kisser and you're a fast learner And that kinda thing could float
thinkin' 'bout the times And the things you should've done Well you might as well forget it In the end you have won Ohh Long gone letters Well it makes
one night stand I could have lived with that But now it seems to me I'm just a fly that is caught in your net The things you gave me were The things
in this business I didn't forget who I am I always remain the Kane inside a battle Never to walk in anyone's shadow I do my own thing, I do a thing
room There's too many rats in this cage of the world And the women know their place They sit home and write letters And when they visit once a year, well
, baby Of mine Well, I'm in a guided missile And I'm a lost in the sky Won't be returning until Things feel right I got a poison pen letter Ain't that
of gold and poison That beckons to us all Nothing changes here very much You used to say it never will The pubs are all full on Friday nights And things
should free me" Send me her love letters, says someday she'd really love to meet me Tells her customers people should forgive me for the things
On the side lock death, letter for the koolaid White night, voodoo magic of the black plague I'm the blood that you drink from the poison well It's your
whore? I got the dud sendin' me letters and babblin' a?bout the moon, I really do think his bells are out of tune." "Well, don't you go dingin' his
those letters that you wrote to yourself but could not address? Yeah, I'm a good kisser, and you're a fast learner And that kind of thing could float
know... That's the same thing they said about me a long time ago And if they tell folks that you finally lost your nerve That's the same thing they said