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Lyrics
A haunted house or a breeze,
cold suddenly
my old friend is drifting
on down the line.
The real thing is shaking,
weak at the knees
because an echo is the ringing
of his own forgery.
It's never warm at all
with heads to the wall
or hands in other people's
pockets, after all.
Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB.
Writer(s): David John Hartley
cold suddenly
my old friend is drifting
on down the line.
The real thing is shaking,
weak at the knees
because an echo is the ringing
of his own forgery.
It's never warm at all
with heads to the wall
or hands in other people's
pockets, after all.
Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., SC PUBLISHING DBA SECRETLY CANADIAN PUB.
Writer(s): David John Hartley
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