Текст (слова) песни: Smiths, The - Wonderful Woman (Tate)
Here her head, she lay Until she`d rise and say : "I`m starved of mirth; Let`s go and trip a dwarf"
Oh, what to be done with her ? What to be done with her ? Oh ... Ice water for blood With neither heart or spine And then just, and then just To pass time; let us go and rob the blind What to be done with her ? Oh, what to ... What to be said of her ? Oh ... But when she calls me, I do not walk, I run Oh, when she calls, I do not walk, I run Oh ... Oh ... Oh ...
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