| einn, tveir, þrír, fjórir..of monsters and men |
Posted: Mai 2nd, 2012 | Author: elias | Filed under: sound, word | No Comments »maybe i’m a crook for stealing your heart away
and maybe i’m a crook for not caring for it
and maybe i’m a bad, bad, bad, bad person
well baby, i know
so i think it’s best we both forget before we dwell on it
the way you held me so tight all through the night
it was near morning
because you love, love, love when you know i can’t love
you love, love, love when you know i can’t love
you love, love, love when you know i can’t love, you…
and these fingertips, they’ll never run through your skin
those bright blue eyes can only meet mine across a room
filled with people that are less important than you
because you love, love, love when you know i can’t love
you love, love, love when you know i can’t love
you love, love, love when you know i can’t love, you…
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