Soon our fortunes will be made, my darling
|
And we will leave this loathsome little town
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Silver bells jingling from your black lizard boots, my baby
|
Silver foil to trim your wedding gown
|
|
It's true the tools of love wear down
|
Time passes
|
A mid wanders
|
It seems mindless, but it does
|
Sometimes I see you face
|
As if through reading glasses
|
And your smile seems softer than it was
|
|
Proof
|
Some people gonna call you up
|
Tell you something that you already know
|
Proof
|
Sane people go crazy on you
|
Say ''No man, that was not
|
The deal we made
|
I got to go, I got to go''
|
Faith
|
Faith is an island in the setting sun
|
But proof, yes
|
Proof is the bottom line for everyone
|
|
My face, my race
|
Don't matter anymore
|
My sex, my cheques
|
Accepted at the door
|
|
Proof
|
Some people gonna call you up
|
Tell you something that you already know
|
Proof
|
Sane people go crazy on you
|
Say ''No man, that was not
|
The deal we made
|
I got to, I got to go''
|
Faith
|
Faith is an island in the setting sun
|
But proof, yes
|
Proof is the bottom line for everyone
|
|
Half moon hiding in the clouds, my darling
|
And the sky is flecked with signs of hope
|
Raise your weary wings against the rain, my baby
|
Wash your tangled curls with gambler's soap
|
|
Proof
|
Some people gonna call you up
|
Tell you something that you already know
|
Sane people go crazy on you
|
Say ''No man, that was not
|
The deal we made
|
I got to, I got to, I got to''
|
Faith
|
Faith is an island in the setting sun
|
But proof, yes
|
Proof is the bottom line for everyone
|
|
-----------------
|
Proof
|
Simon and Garfunkel |