Текст песни Smiths, The - Pretty Girls Make Graves (Tate)
Smiths, The - Pretty Girls Make Graves (Tate) слова песни
Upon the sand, upon the bay
"There is a quick and easy way" you say
Before you illustrate
I`d rather state :
"I`m not the man you think I am
I`m not the man you think I am"
And Sorrow`s native son
He will not smile for anyone
And Pretty Girls Make Graves
Oh ...
End of the pier, end of the bay
You tug my arm, and say : "Give in to lust,
Give up to lust, oh heaven knows we`ll
Soon be dust ... "
Oh, I`m not the man you think I am
I`m not the man you think I am
And Sorrow`s native son
He will not rise for anyone
And Pretty Girls Make Graves
Oh really ?
Oh ...
I could have been wild and I could have
Been free
But Nature played this trick on me
She wants it Now
And she will not wait
But she`s too rough
And I`m too delicate
Then, on the sand
Another man, he takes her hand
A smile lights up her face
(and well, it would)
I lost my faith in Womanhood
I lost my faith in Womanhood
I lost my faith ...
Oh ...
Hand in glove ...
The sun shines out of our behinds ...
Oh ...