Talk to her, that's right
|
It could mean more than you think
|
Talk to her, that's right
|
And you don't have to lose a thing
|
Leave the boots and saddle outside
|
You could make her happy again
|
Laugh about the time
|
She threw the dinner at you
|
|
And in the coconut grove
|
You can imagine the scene
|
Another bus unloads
|
We're still waiting to leave
|
|
Talk to her, that's nice
|
Or you could make a murder begin
|
Breathe on her, that's right
|
Once more you will be her friend
|
She's the only who knows
|
Where you're from and where you've been
|
And what remains unsaid
|
Can leave you hanging in between
|
|
I spent a lot of time in the transit lounge
|
And I wasn't sure where I was going now
|
The papers I read were all yesterday's news
|
Not a hundred percent sure what I did with my shoes
|
Lying on the floor of the transit lounge
|
There'll be no announcements made
|
Better make sure you don't sleep too sound
|
There'll be no announcements made
|
There'll be no announcements made
|
|
And you can dream about the things
|
You meant to do before you die
|
Break him out, the one
|
Who's waiting for his moment to shine
|
All the stupid things I said
|
Will haunt you, will linger I guess
|
|
And in the coconut grove
|
You can imagine the scene
|
Another bus unloads
|
We're still waiting to leave
|
The camera flash goes off
|
See the tallest man alive
|
And Thai massage his feet
|
Before his long plane ride
|
|
-----------------
|
Transit Lounge
|
| Crowded House |
