| I paint my lips pillarbox red
|
| It reminds me of the country
|
| Where I was born and bred
|
| Roots lie deeper than bones
|
| So back in time I go Through the tobacco smoke veil
|
| On the perfumed trail
|
| Where only childhood knows
|
| I lift my face
|
| To feel the rain
|
| Everything’s changed
|
| Though it seems the same
|
| The shallow hugs
|
| The muted rage
|
| The weeping skies
|
| The shadowless days
|
| I love and I hate this place
|
| I ran away but I couldn’t escape
|
| I paint my lips pillarbox red
|
| It reminds me of the country
|
| Where I was born and bred
|
| Roots lie deeper than bones
|
| So back in time I go Through the saloon bar doors
|
| Onto the chewing gum floors
|
| Where only childhood knows
|
| I lift my face
|
| To feel the rain
|
| Everything’s changed
|
| Though it seems the same
|
| The sarcasm
|
| The bitter remarks
|
| That pierce the chest
|
| And wound the heart
|
| The shallow hugs
|
| The muted rage
|
| The weeping skies
|
| The shadowless days
|
| I love and I hate this place
|
| I ran away but I couldn’t escape
|
| I paint my lips pillarbox red
|
| It reminds me of the country
|
| Where I was born and bred
|
| I paint my lips pillarbox red
|
| It reminds me of the country
|
| Where I was born and bred |