| Turn the pages back, 'cause i don’t know, where i should begin
|
| As you pirouette across the bedroom
|
| There is no specific place or time, to start
|
| This is the tale of Cassandra, not a story of sentiment
|
| She was a stranger, still a stranger, with an appetite for mad romance
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| No she didn’t stay for long, she didn’t stay for long
|
| She wore her heart on a chain, away from refrain or slip up
|
| This is the tale of Cassandra, like a tiny golden locket
|
| There isn’t much else left to say about Cassandra
|
| There isn’t much else left to say, at all
|
| When you go don’t turn around and say goodbye
|
| When you go, when you go
|
| Turn the pages back, cause i don’t know, how this story ends
|
| As you drift through my mind like a daydream
|
| She’s made of love and lust, pain and trust, a poison all her own
|
| This is the tale of Cassandra, not medication or antidote
|
| There isn’t much else left to say about Cassandra
|
| There isn’t much else left to say, at all
|
| When you go don’t turn around and say goodbye
|
| When you go, when you
|
| When you go, don’t leave the light on
|
| When you go, don’t leave the light on
|
| When you go, don’t leave the light on
|
| Cassandra, Cassandra no
|
| When you go, don’t leave the light on
|
| Cassandra, Cassandra no |