Таким теплым вечером в преддверии жарких выходных хочется лежать в гамаке, вдыхать запах далеких костров, слушать собачий лай и ни о чем не думать. Но я в городе. Тут нет гамаков, зато в избытке соседей с дрелью. Все это не имеет никакого отношения к песне, которую я собираюсь сейчас повесить, кроме того, что ее приятно слушать теплым летним вечером.
I thought I saw you in the battleship But it was only a look a like She was nothing but a vision trick Under the warning light She was close, close enough to be your ghost But my chances turned to toast When I asked her if I could call her your name
I thought I saw you in the rusty hook Huddled up in wicker chair I wandered up for a closer look And kissed who ever was sitting there
She was close, and she held me very tightly 'Til I asked awfully politely, please Can I call you her name
And I elongated my lift home, Yeah I let him go the long way round I smelt your scent on the seat belt And kept my shortcuts to myself
I thought I saw you in the parrots beak Messing with the smoke alarm It was too loud for me to hear her speak And she had a broken arm
It was close, so close that the walls were wet And she wrote it out in letraset No you can't call me her name
Tell me where's your hiding place I'm worried I'll forget your face And I've asked everyone I'm beginning to think I imagined you all along
I elongated my lift home Yeah I let him go the long way 'round I smelt your scent on the seat belt And kept my shortcuts to myself
I saw your sister in the cornerstone On the phone to the middle man When I saw that she was on her own I thought she might understand
She was close, well you couldn't get much closer She said I'm really not supposed to but yes, You can call me anything you want