Из альбома: Bloodsports

(Verse)
And the mysteries of love are not for us,
It's the little things that are tearing us up,
As the telephone emits a brittle sigh
Only one of us will reach it in time

(Chorus)
What are you? What are you?
What are you not telling me?
What are you? What are you?
What are you not telling me?

(Verse)
As I blow away the dandelion clock
Will the miracle reveal itself?
Like an amateur under the sickle moon
Did I give away control too soon?

(Verse)
Just bread for the birds in second hand furs,
An occasional touch, an occasional word,
No the mysteries of love are not for us,
It's the little things that are tearing us up

(Chorus x2)
What are you? What are you?
What are you not telling me?
What are you? What are you?
What are you not telling me?

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