Keaton Henson
Keaton Henson - Confessional songtekst
Je score:
We fucked 'til we had enough You made phone calls and I threw up And I made a mess of waking up Tripped on bed sheets and you made a fuss And I woke to find your tired arms Wrapped around me as you raised alarms And love, make it easy on me I've just enough to fall asleep And love, take it easy on me I'm older now and long to be twenty-three A blood red heart on my busted lip Paint and sawdust on our fingertips And blood spilled out from my broken ribs Now here's a gun, you don't deserve to live Blood spilled out from my broken ribs Here's a gun, you don't deserve to live