Well, I know you find it hard to smile,
|
To keep your happiness in style
|
You pass in silence in the mornin'
|
You know you shouldn't ever try to ignore me.
|
|
And you look to be pretty nervous
|
Sweaty hands and blood shot eyes.
|
So hard to identify you,
|
Just a loser in a loser's disguise.
|
|
She don't back down,
|
And she won't come around here
|
Now there's all this talk about dying
|
Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
With your fingernails painted red
|
And your eyes all ready to wed
|
Decorated from head to toe
|
Like a magician in a talent show.
|
|
She don't back down,
|
And she don't come around here.
|
An' there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
So you've smoked your last cigarette
|
Burned coldly on a train from Tibet
|
And broke your last bottle of wine
|
And unraveled your last ball of twine.
|
|
Well, she don't back down,
|
She don't come around here
|
Now there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
She don't back down,
|
She don't come around here
|
Now there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
Well, I know you find it hard to smile
|
To keep your happiness in style
|
You pass in silence in the mornin'
|
You know you don't usually ignore me.
|
|
Now there's all this talk about dying,
|
Well, I don't get it, for the life of me.
|
|
-----------------
|
For The Life Of Me
|
| The Wallflowers |
