Letras: Dogs. Tall Stories From Under The Table. Winston Smith.

You might see, snow drenched roof tops
A stalagtite falls to the alley like an arrow from cupid
intoo yo, The world has stopped
And it's pretty as a picture

You might not notice
How cold it gets when the gin runs out and history
is born again
You can't even think
How you wanna be with her

Well here we are darling, Jam never tasted so good
Nothing ever felt so warm as you, above this old
world shop
With it's old world trinkets
But how dare we even think it

When there's a cardboard box
With shivering feet full of distant memories and
nearby fantasies
Of good heels and chasmere socks
There's a cold war on thee world

That's what i heard

I opened up
Told her i'm lonely
I said dont you know me
She said who're you talking to?
Her memory's faded
Irradicated
She's been infiltrated
But oh how i waited
Because i know there's something
I just can't get to it
I wasted years
How i held you near
I tasted fear
But how i helf you near
And i fought the combine
Until they let me outside
Where it was pretty as a picture

(Thanks to FM for these lyrics)