Ryan Adams "Friends" |
As pretty as a song A song could ever be Like Christmas on a river Without a boat or Christmas tree This afternoon with you was something like a letter The kind that someone writes but never sends And when you look at me like that I know that someday it's goanna end And when you go I bet you miss your friends As angry as a breeze Tugging hard upon the sails Been moving through these streets forever From Baltimore to Amsterdam These things inside me they repeat like broken records Spinning pretty something's behind my eyes and when I can't look at you I can paint your picture perfectly in my mind and when I get old I'm goanna miss you all the time That wind up in the trees Scattering bluebirds all over the place Shuffling children and piles of leaves I wish I was the wind, I'd touch your face This afternoon with you was something like a letter The kind that someone writes but never sends And when your good to me It makes me blue because someday it's goanna end And when we pass on I bet you miss your friends Bet you miss your friends I bet you miss your friends Lyric from www.lyricmania.com |