Sara Bareilles - Poetry by Dead Men (Live from the Hollywood Bowl) paroles de chanson
Sara Bareilles Poetry by Dead Men (Live from the Hollywood Bowl)

Poetry by Dead Men (Live from the Hollywood Bowl)

Sara Bareilles


paroles de chanson Poetry by Dead Men (Live from the Hollywood Bowl) - Sara Bareilles




Holy shit we′re at the Hollywood Bowl
Goodnight, goodbye, gotta go
Just kidding, I just got here
I'm so glad you′re here
Thank you for coming
By the time you hear this
I'll be in the rearview mirror
I'll even wear that green dress you like so
When I disappear
You can turn around
One last look at the girl you lost
In the time you took to make up your mind
Between two roads
Go and take some more time
But me and mine must go
I try to wait it out
No more, can′t find the man I was waiting for
I wanted to be your girl
In a white t-shirt
Over coffee, stirring in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl
With your hands on my skin
Stirring in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry
By the time you hear this
Who knows where I might be?
Singing ′bout another near miss
Love that ended incomplete
I was ready but you weren't
So jump with your net from this bridge you burned
I wanted to tell you things
All the secrets I′ve been keeping
I saw it in front of me
But then you just keep disappearing
A good dream almost
Now I tell your ghost
I wanted to be your girl
In a white t-shirt
Over coffee, stirring in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl
With your hands on my skin
Stirring in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry
Line after line
The words just left to remind
The two of us saw what we could've been
Poetry by dead men
Fire from embers
How can I make you remember?
With a turn of a phrase
Would you turn to me if I say
I still want to be your girl?
I still want to be your girl
In a white t-shirt
Over coffee, stirring in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry by dead men
I wanted to be your girl
With your hands on my skin
Stirring in the cinnamon
While you read me poetry
(While you read me poetry by dead men)
While you read me poetry
(I wanted to be your girl)
I wanted to be your girl
(I wanted to be your girl)
I wanted to be your girl
(I wanted to be your girl)
(I wanted to be your girl)
This is what I look like standing up
Thank you!
Alright, goodnight
That′s gonna be my thing tonight I reckon
I can already feel it, I'm just gonna keep pretending like I′m leaving
Then it's gonna be like 11:30
And you guys are gonna be like "is she gonna fucking leave?
We would love that, parking is hard"
We're at the Hollywood Bowl
I′m the most nervous about this show, I′m just gonna get it out there
This is you in L.A., you motherfuckers, you intimidate me, it's why I had to move
Just kidding, I love coming back, it feels like home



Writer(s): Sara Bareilles, Justin Tranter


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