MusicGu.ru

I`ve kept my head against the wall

I`ve been this way for so long now

You weren`t exactly falling over yourself

When last I saw you

Well I always thought

We`d get along like a house on fire

Until you told me that I`d have to go

How can someone like you work that slow



Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see

Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see



I don`t feel anything no more

This state of grace is consuming me

I`m not grown up and I am not a boy

I feel no pain and I feel no joy

Well I always thought

We`d get along like a house on fire

In those days when the sun was warm

I ran in the street where I was born



Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see

Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see



The streets are so empty at this time of night

I`d rather walk on my own than fight

In a world where I`d forgotten you

I found myself forgotten, too

That`s the danger of believing books

And all the lies of those thieves and crooks

We sing intellectual songs of love

From a stolen pen to a velvet glove.

I`ve kept my head against the wall

I`ve been this way for so long now

You weren`t exactly falling over yourself

When last I saw you

Well I always thought

We`d get along like a house on fire

Until you told me that I`d have to go

How can someone like you work that slow



Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see

Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see



I don`t feel anything no more

This state of grace is consuming me

I`m not grown up and I am not a boy

I feel no pain and I feel no joy

Well I always thought

We`d get along like a house on fire

In those days when the sun was warm

I ran in the street where I was born



Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see

Whatever you think of me

You listen hard and I will make you see



The streets are so empty at this time of night

I`d rather walk on my own than fight

In a world where I`d forgotten you

I found myself forgotten, too

That`s the danger of believing books

And all the lies of those thieves and crooks

We sing intellectual songs of love

From a stolen pen to a velvet glove.

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