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Слова
We run into a dark room
And we spasm to the sounds
Of a copy of Morrissey
Or the blues of the Deep South
And the drugs will only hide it
The feeling never really goes
And we won't find love at the bottom
Of a glassy hole
And you don't know what you've got until it's gone
And you don't know who to love until you're lost
And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed
I wish you'd live like you're made of glass
And we've got work in the morning
But it's nearly 5 a.m.
Is this really what we envisaged?
We won't be 21 again
And in the haze you see colors
And problems suddenly make sense
But the way you've been going
You'll be in an early grave
And you don't know what you've got until it's gone
And you don't know who to love until you're lost
And you don't know how to feel until the moment's passed
I wish you'd live like you're made of glass
Writer(s): William Jones, Henry Wyeth, Joshua Keogh, Tomas Sperring, Felix Archer
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