Oh dear, take what you've been given
|
And give back to me
|
Oh night, don't waste your time with that
|
'Cause it may never come
|
|
But she goes down wrapped up in the armies
|
Of a love she's found
|
She won't hide, love is Sunday mornings
|
When the paper writes
|
|
Here and there, silently you're waiting
|
For what never comes
|
Oh dear, don't waste your time alone
|
'Cause it may never come
|
|
But she goes down wrapped up in the armies
|
Of a love she's found
|
She won't hide, love is Sunday mornings
|
When the paper cries
|
|
Oh dear, don't waste your time with that
|
'Cause it may never come
|
|
But she goes down wrapped up in the armies
|
Of a love she's found
|
She won't hide, love is Sunday mornings
|
And the paper shines
|
|
She goes down, she goes down
|
She goes down, she goes down
|
|
-----------------
|
She Goes Down
|
| Tonic |
