"Why, why so quiet?
|
Oh my, mysterious country singer?" she asked.
|
|
My life, it's a riot
|
I'm climbing barricades
|
in empty streets at night.
|
|
When I'm down
|
fighting shadows.
|
Twenty-five postcards
|
in a box in my room.
|
|
Telephone conversations,
|
gas slowly leaking out
|
of a heart-shaped balloon.
|
|
It's a dangerous game
|
that I'm not sure
|
if I could keep playing for long.
|
It's a dangerous game,
|
it's a very fine line
|
and if one step is wrong...
|
I have no cards to play
|
and that's why
|
I've got nothing to say,
|
tonight.
|
I've got nothing to say,
|
tonight.
|
|
-----------------
|
Riot On An Empty Street
|
| Kings Of Convenience |
