Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Number twenty-three.

One day we made a studio out of my living room
to kill some time recording songs,
and I wore sunglasses when I sang the one about you,
so you wouldn't misread my eyes and take it wrong.





Baby, I can't figure it out
Your kisses taste like honey
Sweet lies don't gimme no rise up
Fool, what you're trying to do


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