I swore up and down I'd stop writing to you,
But I saw your face. You whispered. What else could I do?
My mind and my muse are conniving old finks.
I suppose it's like when someone tells you not to think
About elephants. What else can you do?
The elephant in this room, my headroom, is you.
But I saw your face. You whispered. What else could I do?
My mind and my muse are conniving old finks.
I suppose it's like when someone tells you not to think
About elephants. What else can you do?
The elephant in this room, my headroom, is you.
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