Pale, pubescent beasts
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Roam through the streets
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And coffee-shops
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Their prey gather in herds
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Of stiff knee-length skirts
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And white ankle-socks
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But while they search for a mate
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My type hibernate
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In bedrooms above
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Composing their songs of love
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Young, uniform minds
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In uniform lines
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And uniform ties
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Run round with trousers on fire
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And signs of desire
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They cannot disguise
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While I try to find words
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As light as the birds
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That circle above
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To put in my songs of love
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Fate doesn´t hang on a wrong or right choice
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Fortune depends on the tone of your voice
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So sing while you have time
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Let the sun shine down from above
|
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And fill you with songs of love
|
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Fate doesn´t hang on a wrong or right choice
|
Fortune depends on the tone of your voice
|
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So sing while you still can
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While the sun hangs high up above
|
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Wonderful songs of love
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Beautiful songs of love
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Beautiful songs of love
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Beautiful songs of love
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-----------------
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Songs Of Love
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| Ben Folds |
