| These Foolish Things by Rod Stewart : |
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These Foolish Things - Lyrics
San Francisco Bay
Past pier thirty nine
Early p.m.
Can't remember what time
Got the waiting cab
Stopped at the red light
Address, unsure of
But it turned out just right
It started straight off
"Coming here is hell"
That's his first words
We asked what he meant
He said " where ya' from?"
We told him our lot
"When ya' take a holiday
Is this what you want?"
So have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Lie around all day
Have a drink to chase
"Yourself and tourists, yeah
That's what I hate"
He said "We're going wrong
We've all become the same
We dress the same ways
Only our accents change
So have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Swim in the ocean
That be my dish
I drive around all day
And kill processed fish
It's all money gum
No artists anymore
You're only in it now
To make more, more, more
So have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day |
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Get video code for - These Foolish Things
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Get video code for - These Foolish Things
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These Foolish Things - Lyrics
(feat. dave koz)
a cigarette that bears a lipstick's traces
an airline ticket to romantic places
and still my heart has wings
these foolish things remind me of you
a tinkling piano in the next apartment
those stumblin' words that told you what my heart meant
a fairground's painted swings
these foolish things remind me of you
you came, you saw, you conquered me
when you did that to me
i knew somehow this had to be
the winds of march that make my heart a dancer
a telephone that rings but who's to answer?
oh, how the ghost of you clings
these foolish things remind me of you
the scent of smouldering leaves the wail of steamers
two lovers on the street who walk like dreamers
oh how the ghost of you clings
these foolish things
remind me of you
how strange, how sweet, to find you still
these things are dear to me
they seem to bring you so near to me
the sigh of midnight trains in empty stations
silk stockings thrown aside dance invitations
oh how the ghost of you clings
these foolish things
remind me of you
remind me of you
remind me of you
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