E A B [Verse]E Cancel the car to number tenA B Such a thick fog rolling inE I played my cards on unreal glassA B I left the party next to last [Chorus]E A B Friday night to Sunday morning, I go onE A B I don't know if I am really here at allE A B Monday down to Friday night, I work all dayE A B Move emptily, so emptily through HollowayE A B E A B [Verse]E Forget my face, I won't be backA B I hear your friends have turned their backsE When summer comes where Rose Street windsA B The longing makes you close your eyes [Verse]E It's unreal, so unrealA B To walk along these streetsE It's unreal, so unrealA B To close your eyes and breathe [Chorus]E A B Friday night to Sunday morning, I go onE A B I don't know if I am really here at allE A B Monday down to Friday night, I work all dayE A B Move emptily, so emptily through HollowayE A B E A B [Bridge]E A E when I left you at the Coronet this morningE A B you said that your happiness was goneE A E but the hum of voices somehow brings me back hereE A B though there's no happiness and there's no love [Verse]E mid-afternoon Lincoln's InnA B terraces though crying windE before the night I disappearA B what else can I do round here? [Chorus]E A B Friday night to Sunday morning, I go onE A B I don't know if I am really here at allE A B Monday down to Friday night, I work all dayE A B Move emptily, so emptily through Holloway
Emptily Through Holloway
The Clientele
- A
- B
- E
Continua depois do anúncio
Tom:
Composição: James Mark Hornsey, Alasdair Maclean e Mark Keen
Essa informação está errada?
Enviar revisão