Keane
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Strangeland

Keane

Strangeland


Lover, I remember.
Laying out on map,
Throwing our possessions in the van,
You takes part on the back seat,
And the camera in your hand,
Dressed for our arrival in the strangeland,

Strangeland blind, you got no reason, you got no rhyme,
You get no time to put things right, to put things right.

You drove across the border, as the winter rains and dry,
And only faithful bird song fill the sky,
You threw your head back screamming,
As we raise across wet sand.
And left into the waters of the strangeland.

Strangeland blind, you got no reason, you got no rhyme,
You get no time to put things right, to put things right.

You round a rope around me,
And you put the knots in tight,
And shoke me like a bad dream from your sight,
And now the things I've done to forget you,
Well, it's not what a I had plan,
The sweetest thoughts get twisted in the strangeland.

Strangeland blind, you got no reason, you got no rhyme,
You get no time to put things right, to put things...

Strangeland dreams, you tore my baby away from me
You get no time to put things right, to put things right.

You get no time to put things right, to put things right,
To put things right, to put things right.

Compositores: Timothy James Rice Oxley (Tim Oxley Rice), Thomas Oliver Chaplin (Thomas Chaplin), Richard David Hughes (Richard Hughes), Jesse Joseph Quin (Jesse Quin)
ECAD: Obra #6331386 Fonograma #13270240

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