Keane Early Winter
You, You have a face for fashion,
For style in the place of passion,
A rose in the garden.
You, You look like you really meant it,
Twisting the knife in my chest,
Stamping on whats left.
But I never was,
I never, was one for crying,
I never was one for tears.
The map,
the map of the world is on you.
The moon gravitates around you,
The seasons obey you.
But I never was,
I was never one for crying.
I never was one for tears.
No sooner I was born, then I was dying,
what kind of world is this?
It's only a stone for throwing.
It looks like an early winter,
Alright.
It looks like an early winter,
Alright.
An early winter,
Alright.
And you turn me over.
Why, why do you act so stupid?
When, you know that you're always right
It looks like an early winter,
Alright.
It looks like an early winter,
Alright.
An early winter,
Alright.
And you turn me over.
And it gets too much
And it gets too much
Starting over and over and over again
And it gets too much
And it gets too much
Starting over and over and over again
And it gets too much
And it gets too much
Starting over and over and over again
Alright.
You turn me over.
