Sitting at the back of a smoke filled room
|
On a cold and sunny afternoon
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Drinking red wine
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And counting the laugh lines
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On the face of the girl who stands in the doorway
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And over her shoulder
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There's a world growing colder
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I'm feeling older and slowly less sober
|
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It's the first and the last time
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That we'll ever meet
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Just falling leaves
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From winter trees
|
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So light gives in to dark
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The nylon sheets softly spark
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Nostalgia strikes hard at the heart
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That cannot escape from its past
|
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And it's the first and the last time
|
That we'll ever meet
|
Just falling leaves
|
Dropping from winter trees
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Strangers touching the parts
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That love cannot reach
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WeatherBelle
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| The The |
