|
She has no-one to hold her now, |
|
She doesn't even know how |
|
Or if it's true or isn't true, |
|
Mistakes are accidents we choose |
|
Pouring out of my head, |
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I put my trust in love instead |
|
I cannot live with the thought |
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That all her words were just drinking talk |
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I dream of hollow ships and clocks |
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Empty trains that never stop |
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Love and hate were brothers then |
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Never were they ever friends |
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She gives me an old photograph |
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And whispers now don't you laugh |
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I would have loved you then but love |
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I didn't know what I didn't have |
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Belle, belle |
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Time gets twisted in a ribbon |
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Wrapped around her worried fingers |
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Still I give her all my love |
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But she never seems to get enough |
|
She has no-one to hold her now |
|
She doesn't even know how |
|
Or if it's true or isn't true |
|
Mistakes are accidents we choose |
|
Belle, belle |
