Night descended like a blanket, on the house
Where I miss you like a limb.
I close the curtains, shun the working and
I put your record on.
I put your record on.
I, the lonely tax collector, never had
Such a feeling before you came.
You descended, I amended
And I need it like a hole in the head.
I need it like a hole in the head.
You took me to the lion’s den
And waited for the beast to begin.
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
