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Interpret:
Marianne Faithfull
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| Young Girl Blues
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Its Saturday night, it feels like a Sunday in some ways.
If I had any sense Id maybe go away for a few days.
Be that as it may, I can only say I am lonely,
I am but a young girl, working my way through the phonies.
Coffee on, milk gone, a sad light by fading,
Myself I touch, but not too much, I hear its degrading.
The flowers on my stockings are wilting away in the midnight.
The book I am reading is one mans opinion of moonlight.
My skin is so white, Id like maybe to go to bed soon,
Closing my eyes, if Im to rise up before noon.
High heels, car wheels, the losers are grooving.
My dream, strange seem images are moving.
My friends, they are making a pop star or two every evening.
I know that scene backwards, they cant see the patterns theyre weaving.
My friends they are models but I soon got over that one.
I sit in my one room, a little brought-down in London.
Coffee on, milk gone, a sad light by fading,
Myself I touch, but not too much, I hear its degrading.
La la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
La la la la la, la la la la la la la la la.
La la la la, la la la la la ... |
Eingetragen |
30.Aug.2001 05:08:49 |
Letzer Aufruf |
25.Nov.2003 16:11:24 |
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