Peter Murphy (live with NIN) A stange kind of love
A strange kind of love A strange kind of feeling Swims through your eyes And like the doors To a wide vast dominion They open to your prize This is no terror ground Or place for the rage No broken hearts White wash lies Just a taste for the truth Perfect taste choice and meaning A look into your eyes Blind to the gemstone alone A smile from a frown circles round Should he stay or should he go Let him shout a rage so strong A rage that knows no right or wrong And take a little piece of you There is no mid
|
|