The Sundays - My Finest Hour

 (versiyon 1)
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When the world, it shows me up

My clothes, they show me up

I never knew this before

My finest hour that I've ever known



Was finding a pound on the underground



When my words came stumbling out

And then I went tumbling out

I've never believed before

And the finest hour that I've ever known



Was finding a pound on the underground



And I keep hoping you are the same as me

And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea

We are who we are, what do the others know?

But poetry is not for me, so show me the way to go home



When the words came stumbling out of my mouth

And then I went tumbling out here, no no no



But I keep hoping you are the same as me

And I'll send you letters and come to your house for tea

We are who we are, what do the others know?

But poetry is not for me, so show me the way to go



Oh, I'm going home

But I'll keep hoping you are the only one

Yes, and I'll send you letters, oh, wouldn't it be such fun

Oh, we are who we are, whatever the others say

But poetry is not for me, and much as I'd like to stay

Oh, I just want to go home



You're, you're, you're too young

Should've been, you, you're, you're too young

It should've been, you too, you're too, you're too young

It should've been, you, you, you're too young

You should've been, safer, saner

Bribed the judge and then sat down

You're, you're, you're too young

© WARNER/CHAPPELL MUSIC LTD;




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