Happiness is leaning on my shoulder
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like a cigarette, burning me all over
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It is killing me, slipping through the cracks of my
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sweet misery, Sunday morning stories of you
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is always all about you.
|
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Happiness is crying in the kitchen drinking
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like a friend and all my ugly wishes, it is
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listening while I'm chocking on my pride and all the
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songs I scream, Sunday morning stories of you
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is always all about..
|
|
Happiness is laughing at me like a clown.
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Watching my Nirvana crashing to the ground.
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In the middle of the perfect nervous breakdown.
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Happiness, any day now.
|
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Loneliness is hiding with the lonely falling
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gratefulness while polishing his trophy she was
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beautiful but beautiful don't matter after
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wonderful Sunday morning stories like these
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are always all about..
|
|
Happiness is laughing at me like a clown.
|
Watching my Nirvana crashing to the ground.
|
In the middle of the perfect nervous breakdown.
|
Happiness, any day now.
|
|
Running, always running, always falling
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on my, falling on my face!
|
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Happiness is laughing at me like a clown.
|
Watching my Nirvana crashing to the ground.
|
In the middle of the perfect nervous breakdown.
|
Happiness, any day now.
|
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Happiness... Any Day Now
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| Beth Hart |
