you wonder I'll be yours, I'll be yours dot com So punch my name And in case you wonder I'll be yours, I'll be yours dot com With your handmade leather
Just beneath the raw silk sheen That reflects the tints of autumn from the hills. So punch my name. And in case you wonder - I'll be yours - yours, dot com
Vertaling: Jethro Tull. Dot Com.
: Stormy-eyed on the edge of dawn: nose pressed against the triple glaze. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, silent traffic streams both ways. Along
: Kilometers from nowhere on a scented avenue - Lined with poppy girls. I didn't stop, stop to say hello. Curious vendors - waving bric-a-brac -
: I review my past through wicked windows framed in silver and hung in toughened glass, upon my face, around and over. Now and then: memories of men
: Hot mango flush. Ladies with ice cream hair - Gyroscopic pink neon beams - Everybody's happy about something. The crowd moves like a flock of startings
: (Instrumental)
: Hand in the snake pit - black mamba chase. Head through the lion's cage - head on a plate. Two feet on the hot coals - last dance at the ball. Blindfold
: Hey little buddies: soft and silky night walkers. Dangerous species - Tiptoe menace long grass stalkers on my bed: no butter melting in your jaws
: Hot Mango Flush
: I count the hours: you count the days. Together, we count the minutes in this Passion Play. Walk dusty miles. And I ride that train on a first class
: This sparkling wine is all but empty. Too late for trains and no taxis. I know the feeling. Seems all too contrived. There was no master plan but
: Rusted and ropy. Dog-eared old copy. Vintage and classic, or just plain Jurassic: all words to describe me. Relaxed in the knowledge that happily
: Placing people in their dreamscape with fantasies of foreign fields Lofty spires all well appointed In off-season special deals. To far Alaska:
