Harket Morten A Kind Of Christmas Card
All you folks back home I'll never tell you this You're not supposed to know Where your daughter is There are ways of life You never understood It's right here Downtown Hollywood It's afternoon on Sunset Boulevard I've got a stolen moment trying hard To write a kind of Christmas card But I am burning cut again Tonight there is fever in my veins Mama, dear All the love you gave I guess there's really nothing, nothing much to save See this place, is as dirty as I feel myself There are still some riches At the Roosevelt That evening prayer, those memories In my little bedroon, mama, on my knees, That's where I'm at - Down in Los-Angeles And I am burning out again And I must rise above the shame Tonight there is fever in my veins... Oh, just think of the girl I used to be You were my age once, mama, Twenty-three I can still hear some of the songs you used to play From that summer of love in '68 Seems it's turned into a winter of hate And I am burning out again...
