Love (Makes Me Do Foolish Things)
Love, love, love makes me do foolish things
Sitting on by the phone, a phone that never rings
Hoping to hear you say you love me still
Knowing you never will.
Love, love, love has made a fool of me
Got me doing things, things that shouldn't be
Listening for the sound of your knock on my door
Knowing that sweet sound would be no more.
Funny how precious memories linger on
So long after you?e gone
Oooh, precious memories that all makes me cry
But I keep holding on, oh why should I?
All because love, love, love has made a fool of me
Speak your name softly each night
While holding your picture tight
When you took my heart, you took my soul
And it's far beyond control.
Funny how precious memories linger on
So long, long after you're gone
Oh, precious memories that all makes me cry
But I keep holding on, oh why should I?
All because love, love, love makes me do these things
Love, love, love, love has made a fool of me
Love, love, love makes me do foolish things.
Похожие новости.

The Golden Age Of Rock ‘N’ Roll
[Originally by Mott The Hoople] Ladies and Gentlemen, The golden age of rock and roll.... Everybody hazy, shell-shocked and crazy. Screaming for the face at the window. Jeans for the genies, dresses for the dreamies, Fighting

Принц Уходящего Дня
Мужчина страстного огня, принц уходящего дня Светит он из окна как полуночная звезда Когда он подъезжает вокруг качают волны Любовь кричит любовь она на приводе полном Когда выходит из авто вокруг него шумит

How Does It Fee
[Z-Ro] How does it feel, when they don't believe anything you say Always, got to show and prove yourself every single day Man this ain't living, nothing but drama all through the week And

Hot Dog
Disco Foo! Yo, I work out every day "You sexy!" Yeah that's what they say I eat right and shake a minute (uh) "You lost 30 pounds?" Yeah they say I did it Look, I don't care

Я Полюбила Вас
медленно верно газ плыл по уставшей комнате не задевая глаз тех, что вы вряд ли вспомните бился неровно пульс мысли казались голыми из пистолета грусть целилась прямо в голову точки летели вниз матом ругались дворники я выбирала жизнь стоя на подоконнике в