Underground or Aeroplane
Doesn’t matter in the end
I know it has to be this way
You’re leaving me again
So I’ll write my little love song
And sing it to the wind
Youre out there on the road tonight
London, New York, Amsterdam
And I’m lonely here without you
Miss your breath against my skin
You love me then you leave me
Still I lie here pressing fingers where your kisses have been
And I miss you
And I miss you
And I miss you
I know I should be in bed
And it’s almost 3am
But when I close my eyes I can only see miles of headlights
Fleshing out the distance
So I’ll sing my little lonely songs
Its just part of who I am
Cause I know that its been calling to you
London, New York, Amsterdam
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I’m dying
Are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It’s a very, very mad world mad world
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what’s my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I’m dying
Are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It’s a very, very mad world … mad world
Enlarging your world
Mad world
Anul acesta Verita Saga a mai scos un album. “Cu alţi ochi”. Am ales de pe albumul ăsta o piesă… de fapt două. “Interludiu (Dor De Casă)” şi “Dor De Casă”. Le-am unit pentru a fi mai simplu de pus online. Şi le pun aici, să simţiţi şi voi ceea ce simt eu. E vorba de acel loc pe care l-am pierdut de mult. Acel loc de care, teoretic, nu mă mai leagă prea multe. E vorba de o bucată de viaţă demult pierdută. E vorba de acel loc pe care îl revăd din ce în ce mai rar. Şi pe care o să îl vad şi mai rar în scurtă vreme… E vorba de acele locuri unde m-am născut. Unde am crescut… No other comments. Cel mai bine pot vorbi versurile despre asta…