Bill Ryder-Jones
Christinha
There’s a ghost you know who pulls at my strings
Moves my hands toward the sharper things
Now I’m all cut up and caught up in some scene
I thought I’d folded all my outsides in
Keeping the corners from cutting your skin
But it weren’t enough and not enough’s nothing
I was led by all the things you’ll pretend you never said
I took the blame upon myself
Somehow I blamed it on myself
Well, Christinha, what’s the saddest thing?
Knowing you’re out there playing our games with him
While I’m here still tangled up in my old skin
But I keep the good times closer than thе bad
Running your baths before American Dad
And thеm two words you loved whispered in your ear
I was bad, I was all the things you would never wanna have
But “Let’s Get Together In Our Minds”
“Ysbeidiau Heulog” and “Send In The Clowns”
And there’s something on your mind
So let’s get together in our minds
‘Cause I don’t think I could have given any more
A sun just sank into some sea
No, I’m not sure she could have given any more
Our sun just sank into some sea
I don’t think I could have given any more
A sun just sank into some sea