The mysteries of love are not for us, it's the little things that are tearing us up,
As the telephone emits a brittle sigh only one of us will reach it in time
What are you not telling me?
As I blow away the dandelion clock will the miracle reveal itself?
Like an amateur under the sickle moon did I give away control too soon?
Just bread for the birds in second hand furs, an occasional touch, an occasional word,
No the mysteries of love are not for us, it's the little things that are tearing us up
What are you not telling me?
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
