Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Haze , by - Jack FrostSong from the album Snow Job, in the genre АльтернативаRelease date: 14.08.1996
Record label: Steve Kilbey, Third Ear
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Haze , by - Jack FrostSong from the album Snow Job, in the genre АльтернативаHaze |
| Please let me in, I wasnt introduced |
| I really want to be your friend |
| Id like to know, I wasnt introduced |
| I really want to make amends |
| Theres a place that I know, its so hard to find |
| Id like to take you there, if youve got the mind |
| cause I never dreamed at all Id know someone like you |
| The temple of your secret hell is the heaven Ive been through |
| Wed like to know, its kind of confidential |
| But where on earth did you go Were just your friends and thats coincidental |
| But do you really like the end |
| I wish I was so strong, I wish I was so good |
| Id show you all those things I know I never could |
| We just go round and round, the circle has decreased |
| Youre starving for some lovely love the vultures scarf the feast |
| Beware of freaks, they really mess your mind |
| Youre looking fabulous this time |
| They shook you up, you rattled and you rolled |
| Another generation crime |
| A man without a heart, is a ship without a rudder |
| You run into the rocks, feel our timber shudder |
| Youre greedy with your time, who can lay the blame |
| If I was as young as you I guess Id be the same |
| You played the game, you lived on consequences |
| Without a dollar to your name |
| Up on the hill your busy man advances |
| Are you so scared to stand still |
| Take a look around, see the stranglehold |
| The winters are so warm, the summers are so cold |
| And its ugly out there now, the wind is whispering things |
| You havent heard the last of this the rumors have grown wings |
| Coming back to me Coming back to me Coming back to me through a haze of memory |
| Foxes in the sky, the dunes dark and deep |
| Jury swinging on the vines, while I make a scene |
| Days and days of rain, mushrooms by the ton |
| Waiting for our clothes to dry, mr. |
| watson cleans his gun |
| Walking round the fences, a sister left behind |
| A visit by a country doctor, two years from going blind |
| Sundays at the big house, cream and sheffield steel |
| Still the talk of singapore, and how it feels real |
| It crawls across the grassland, a wall of shining heat |
| Coming on back to me through rocky seat |
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