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Текст (слова) песни: Black - Leaving Song



Hand me my five and dime,
pass me my shirt hung on the line.
I`ll polish up my boots
and then take the first plane stateside I can find.
It`s a handicap to try to see this far,
when this place seems so cramped and small.
In the streets they whisper legends
and it seems that I`m riding for a fall.
I`m leaving,
I`m leaving.
All of my sense is shot,
the streets are like a premonition of a crime.
I wrote without you,
then I took the first plane stateside I could find.
If they could they would`ve stopped me,
they`d say I`m gaping at a dream.
I`m leaving,
I`m leaving.
So I polish up my brand new car,
then take my tunes from door to door.
I try not to see their faces
as I`m dealing out my aces,
the horizon seems so far away.
From a penthouse for a king and queen
I expected more of the stuff of dreams.
If they can they like to get their man
and cut him right down to his knees.
And I`m reeling,
once again I`m leaving.
I`m leaving
and once again I`m leaving.
And I`m leaving,
once again I`m leaving.
--->> Enrique Morano emorano@hotmail.com <<---

 

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