mat
 
 
๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ข๐˜ฅ ๐˜ด๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต

ํ˜„์žฌ ์˜คํ”„๋ผ์ธ
์ฆ๊ฒจ์ฐพ๊ธฐํ•œ ๊ฐ€์ด๋“œ
์ œ์ž‘์ž: Matth
191๋ช…์ด ํ‰๊ฐ€ํ–ˆ์Šต๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.
505
I'm going back to 505
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
With your hands between your thighs
Stop and wait a sec
When you look at me like that, my darlin', what did you expect?
I'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
Or I did last time I checked
Not shy of a spark
The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark
Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark
The middle of adventure, such a perfect place to start
I'm going back to 505
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
With your hands between your thighs
But I crumble completely when you cry
It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye
I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise
Take my hands off of your eyes too soon
I'm going back to 505
If it's a seven hour flight or a forty-five minute drive
In my imagination, you're waitin' lyin' on your side
With your hands between your thighs and a smile
์ข‹์•„ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋ฃน
demonรญaco - ๊ณต๊ฐœ ๊ทธ๋ฃน
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