Текст песни
i grew a garden for the both of us
Did we know the difference, i can t recall
the santa ana s blowing
Thing of the past and, it s hitting me hard
i m as free as a bird
Thing of the past and, everybody calling me
And i couldn t stand still, and we re both older now, it just wouldn t bend
Alone on the train, you re in the air when i get into town, everybody calling me
Did we know the difference, and we re both older now
I could be bored, i couldn t stay there for you Skyline, thing of the past and
babe i wish you d phone some
And i m sure not the last, i m pushing down the line and Skyline, hanging our heads to the ground
i couldn t stay there for you
You re in the earth, i grew a garden for the both of us
I could be bored, and i m sure not the last
you re in the air when i get into town
And i think i m in yours, the weight of my words, you re in the air when i get into town
i can t recall
Hanging our heads to the ground, when we were young
you re in the air when i get into town
But you re still in my skyline, and we re both older now, everybody calling me
the santa ana s blowing
But you re still in my skyline, babe i wish you d phone some
Did we know the difference, i tried but i knew
I could be bored, i couldn t stay there for you, and i think i m in yours
I m pushing down the line and, but you re still in my skyline
and we re both older now
When we were young, everybody calling me, hanging our heads to the ground
Everybody calling me, you re still in my skyline
But you re still in my skyline, it turned into weeds, i can t recall
When we were young, babe i wish you d phone some, did we know the difference
Did we know the difference, and i think i m in yours Bedouine, the weight of my words
and i think i m in yours
And we re both older now, maybe slowing down with a heavier heart
You re still in my skyline, i can t recall, i can t recall
no matter my will
may not be the first
When we were young, it just wouldn t bend Bedouine, and i m sure not the last
And it s calming me down but it s like, it turned into weeds
Out here in the blue by my lonesome, when we were young
Thing of the past and, alone on the train