Text:
Sophie B Hawkins The Best Of Sophie B Hawkins

rather be I?ll tell you up and down the avenue In the passenger seat My best friend has fuzzy hair My best friend walks with her tail in the air My best

rather be I?ll tell you up and down the avenue In the passenger seat. My best friend Has fuzzy hair My best friend Walks with her tail in the air My best

It felt like spring time on this February morning In the courtyard birds were singing your praise I'm still recalling things you said to make me feel

You Poor you Playing so long but you're still not grooving I see you running but I see you ain't moving And me Pitiful me I sleep with both eyes

I'm a wounded soldier on a downtown train to your place You've launched a secret heart with your face You don't always say what I want to hear but

You don't know why I'm crazy I don't know why you're blue You messed with my head You messed with the dead Now I'm gonna mess with you I don't know

It felt like spring time on this February morning In the courtyard birds were singing your praise I'm still recalling things you said to make me feel

Falling falling Into the river of your soul for me to know I am floating on this current to somewhere where love abounds Distant calling The sun

The guilty undertaker sighs, The lonely organ grinder cries, The silver saxophones say I should refuse you. The cracked bells and washed-out horns Blow