She's in my head, she's in my mind. And I'm all she says. Yes she knows me well, as well as you can She's on my side, I often hide. In her magic hair. And there I learn again, the joy of life The
Dine-Weller A bag of nerves. I seem to suppress. Alien of being. Not known to duress. Moonshine, moonshine. There's something in the hills I cannot posses. As dark as sunday. We're woven again.