You can't write a novel from a briefcase You can write a poem from a trench You can dream a dream from A to B But you can't catch a bus from a bench You don't back a horse called Striding Snail You don't name your boat Titanic II So why when I see your happy smiling face Do I always end up singing little blue Little blue, how do you do? Your smile looks like Heaven But your eyes hold a storm about to brew Little blue, how can a flower so pretty Be so laden down with dew? Little blue, how can a flower so beautiful Be so laden down with dew? Little blue You can't build a brewery on a cemetery You can build a pub on a church And people fall quicker than buildings do You have to decide what comes first You don't call a plane 'The Flying Roman' 'Cause the Romans always walked and never flew So why when I see your happy smiling face Do I always end up singing little blue Little blue, how do you do? Your smile looks like Heaven But your eyes hold a storm about to brew Little blue, how can a flower so pretty Be so laden down with dew? Little blue Well Bukowski wrote a story from a barstool And Keats from the top of a hill So I'm going to save my special song for you From a grave where it's quiet and it's chill 'Cause there's a queue of clouds assembled On the horizon of your smile When most think that you're holding back I know you're holding bile Little blue, how do you do? Your smile looks like Heaven But your eyes hold a storm about to brew Little blue, how can a flower so pretty Be so laden down with dew? Little blue, how can a flower so beautiful Be so laden down with dew? Little blue © ISLAND MUSIC LTD; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com