Letra de Monday morning de A Day At The Fair
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Letra de MONDAY MORNING de A DAY AT THE FAIR.
( A Day At The Fair )
Long before my stomping grounds got trampled on
I sat and felt the greatest song
that every painter - every poet couldn´t create.
And words they opened doors
from what my parents had wished for
when the had a child and raised a kid
that I came to this.
And How good does life feel in times like this?
And How good is my shot before I close my eyes and miss?
These feelings exist.
Let it rain on monday morning
right before the world is awake
I will ly there and just think about the weather.
Let my blood beat from my chest
and put my veins up to it´s test
I will breathe in and know what it feels to feel alive.
I´m alive.
About the time our tree house built fell on the lawn
we sat and heard the first of songs
that every rocking chair and shoe box would create.
It´s a world that´s grown to be so careless with it´s memories.
Only benevolence can capture what I mean.
But how good is this picture when the background´s gone?
When I still feel great about standing tall when everything went wrong,
and I am all alone.
Let it rain on monday morning
right before the world is awake
I will ly there and just think about the weather.
Let my blood beat from my chest
and put my veins up to it´s test
I will breathe in and know what it feels to feel alive.
I´m alive.
Let it rain on my rooftop
so I can hear the sounds,
of passing winds through blowing tree´s
that say "I´ll see you around."
The seasons can say things that I never can.
These words describe nothing,
when I come home again.
Well I guess I must have lost it,
in a line of my luck.
It said "this is you´re life now, and you´re done with growing up."
Well I missed my mark,
and I miss those tree´s,
and I miss lying in bed tonight to picture these things.
I sat and felt the greatest song
that every painter - every poet couldn´t create.
And words they opened doors
from what my parents had wished for
when the had a child and raised a kid
that I came to this.
And How good does life feel in times like this?
And How good is my shot before I close my eyes and miss?
These feelings exist.
Let it rain on monday morning
right before the world is awake
I will ly there and just think about the weather.
Let my blood beat from my chest
and put my veins up to it´s test
I will breathe in and know what it feels to feel alive.
I´m alive.
About the time our tree house built fell on the lawn
we sat and heard the first of songs
that every rocking chair and shoe box would create.
It´s a world that´s grown to be so careless with it´s memories.
Only benevolence can capture what I mean.
But how good is this picture when the background´s gone?
When I still feel great about standing tall when everything went wrong,
and I am all alone.
Let it rain on monday morning
right before the world is awake
I will ly there and just think about the weather.
Let my blood beat from my chest
and put my veins up to it´s test
I will breathe in and know what it feels to feel alive.
I´m alive.
Let it rain on my rooftop
so I can hear the sounds,
of passing winds through blowing tree´s
that say "I´ll see you around."
The seasons can say things that I never can.
These words describe nothing,
when I come home again.
Well I guess I must have lost it,
in a line of my luck.
It said "this is you´re life now, and you´re done with growing up."
Well I missed my mark,
and I miss those tree´s,
and I miss lying in bed tonight to picture these things.
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