Gracie takes the bottles from the porch where you had left them
|
There are age-old dregs of wine you never shared.
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Drivin' down the motorway, with all the best intentions,
|
She a picture of perfection with her cut and coloured hair.
|
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But it's you she thinks of in the hours while she's awake
|
She takes her lipstick from her case to make a smile
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You she thinks of when she thinks of her mistakes
|
regrets an open road that streches out for miles.
|
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Coffee pots, and bottle tops
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and all of this disorder
|
she soaks the plates in the dishwater till it's cold
|
Her reflection in the window of the stores around the corner
|
walk beside her as she's stridin' down the road
|
|
But it's you she thinks of in the hours while she's awake
|
She takes her lipstick from her case to make a smile
|
You she thinks of when she thinks of her mistakes
|
regrets an open road that streches out for mi-i-i-i-iles
|
la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la la
|
|
you she thinks of in the hours while she's awake
|
She takes her lipstick from her case to make a smile
|
You she thinks of when she thinks of her mistakes
|
regrets an open road that streches out for miles
|
|
-----------------
|
Gracie
|
| Bic Runga |
