7 апреля´07 11:52
On Waterloo bridge, where we said our goodbyes
The weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away with a black wooly glove
And try not to notice I've fallen in love.
On Waterloo bridge, I am trying to think:
This is notning. You're high on the charm and
But the juke-box inside me is playing a song
That says something different. And when was it wrong?
On Waterloo bridge with the wind in my hair
I am trempted to skip. You're a fool. I don`t care.
The head does it's best, but the heart is the boss -
I admit it before I'm halfway across.
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