Letras: Suzanne Vega. Days Of Open Hand. Fifty - Fifty Chance.
50-50 chance
The doctor said
In the cardiac room
As she's lying in bed
There's a pan on the floor
Filled with something black
I need to know
I'm afraid to ask
I hug you
I hum to you
I've come to you
I touch you
I tell you
I love you
I sing to you
Bring to you
Anything
Her little heart
It beats so fast
Her body trembles
With the effort to last
I hug you
I hum to you
I've come to you
I touch you
I tell you
I love you
I sing to you
Bring to you
Anything
She's going home
Tomorrow at ten
The question is
Will she try it again?
The doctor said
In the cardiac room
As she's lying in bed
There's a pan on the floor
Filled with something black
I need to know
I'm afraid to ask
I hug you
I hum to you
I've come to you
I touch you
I tell you
I love you
I sing to you
Bring to you
Anything
Her little heart
It beats so fast
Her body trembles
With the effort to last
I hug you
I hum to you
I've come to you
I touch you
I tell you
I love you
I sing to you
Bring to you
Anything
She's going home
Tomorrow at ten
The question is
Will she try it again?
Vega, Suzanne
Days Of Open Hand
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