Текст песни Sunday New York Times - Matt Nathanson

Leaves and the rain falling outside.
Taxi waited in the street.
Gave you my keys, told you I′d try
But we both knew better didn't we?
I made my way to jfk in world record time,
Hoping I would miss the flight
You and I were fighting sleep
Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep,
At least ′til we said goodbye
Sometimes you're still mine
Between the lines of the sunday new york times
You were the saint, I was the liar,
At least that's how I remember it
Left all our dreams, all our desires
On the steps of your apartment
The Broooklyn bridge, your olive skin
Framed in black and white
I miss how simple love could be
When you and I were fighting sleep
Beautiful wasted promises we promised to keep,
At least ′til we said goodbye
Sometimes you′re still mine
Between the lines of the sunday new york times
Running wild down St. marks,
Raw and breathless in your arms
Jumping trains to the park,
When the world was ours
When you and I were fighting sleep.
Under the blankets promises we promised to keep,
At least 'til we said goodbye
Sometimes you′re still mine
Between the lines of the sunday new york times