Someone Else's Bell Lyrics

	作词 : Difford, Tilbrook
	(Difford/Tilbrook)
	We talk about each other on our wrap around couch,
	And live out all the romance in our little town house.
	I never fit the shower and she never sews the threads,
	And so we find our feelings in other people's beds.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn't quite the place for you.
	Don't be surprised if
	I'm gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else's bell, someone else's bell
	Meeting on the motorway, your lover boy blue
	Steaming up the windows with your last breath of youth.
	Don't you think
	I see it?
	Your handbag's full of notes
	I'm feeling like the punch line in someone's private joke.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn't quite the place for you.
	Don't be surprised if
	I'm gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else's bell, someone else's bell
	Our eyes don't seem to contact, never much to say,
	Except perhaps “excuse me” or “pass me the ashtray”
	I see him waiting for you as you go off to work,
	I'm left to draw conclusions while
	I button up my shirt.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn't quite the place for you.
	Don't be surprised if
	I'm gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else's bell
	Someone else's bell...
	Someone else's bell...
	Someone else's bell...
	Someone else's bell...

	zuo ci : Difford, Tilbrook
	Difford Tilbrook
	We talk about each other on our wrap around couch,
	And live out all the romance in our little town house.
	I never fit the shower and she never sews the threads,
	And so we find our feelings in other people' s beds.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn' t quite the place for you.
	Don' t be surprised if
	I' m gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else' s bell, someone else' s bell
	Meeting on the motorway, your lover boy blue
	Steaming up the windows with your last breath of youth.
	Don' t you think
	I see it?
	Your handbag' s full of notes
	I' m feeling like the punch line in someone' s private joke.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn' t quite the place for you.
	Don' t be surprised if
	I' m gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else' s bell, someone else' s bell
	Our eyes don' t seem to contact, never much to say,
	Except perhaps " excuse me" or " pass me the ashtray"
	I see him waiting for you as you go off to work,
	I' m left to draw conclusions while
	I button up my shirt.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn' t quite the place for you.
	Don' t be surprised if
	I' m gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else' s bell
	Someone else' s bell...
	Someone else' s bell...
	Someone else' s bell...
	Someone else' s bell...

	zuò cí : Difford, Tilbrook
	Difford Tilbrook
	We talk about each other on our wrap around couch,
	And live out all the romance in our little town house.
	I never fit the shower and she never sews the threads,
	And so we find our feelings in other people' s beds.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn' t quite the place for you.
	Don' t be surprised if
	I' m gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else' s bell, someone else' s bell
	Meeting on the motorway, your lover boy blue
	Steaming up the windows with your last breath of youth.
	Don' t you think
	I see it?
	Your handbag' s full of notes
	I' m feeling like the punch line in someone' s private joke.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn' t quite the place for you.
	Don' t be surprised if
	I' m gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else' s bell, someone else' s bell
	Our eyes don' t seem to contact, never much to say,
	Except perhaps " excuse me" or " pass me the ashtray"
	I see him waiting for you as you go off to work,
	I' m left to draw conclusions while
	I button up my shirt.
	And if the grass seems greener, but it turns out to be blue
	The Garden of
	Eden isn' t quite the place for you.
	Don' t be surprised if
	I' m gone under the spell
	Of some other witches' wand ringing someone else' s bell
	Someone else' s bell...
	Someone else' s bell...
	Someone else' s bell...
	Someone else' s bell...

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